


Death Becomes Him

by Vadianna



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (mostly hallucinations and questioned reality), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood Ritual, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Force-related hallucinations and visions, Force-related mental issues, Ghosts, M/M, Resurrection, Scars, Tros fix-it, both are Their Worst Selves, but the MCD isn't permanent, casual execution, force ritual, lots of blood, lots of death in general, low empathy Hux, past/implied KoR relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26869933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vadianna/pseuds/Vadianna
Summary: During their first assignment together, Kylo Ren reveals that the soon-to-be Starkiller planet contains a heart of kyber. He offers to make Hux his own lightsaber in exchange for Hux's participation in a binding ritual that grants immunity from death. When one of them dies, the other can perform a resurrection with the lightsaber and a sacrifice.Hux, who loves Ren's lightsaber and doesn't believe in Force rituals, agrees immediately.The ritual is very real, and also has side effects. Both will struggle with the consequences.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 99
Kudos: 311
Collections: Huxloween 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a silly _Death Becomes Her_ -type resurrection story that was supposed to be 5k. Thanks to [@callmelyss and this tweet](https://twitter.com/callmelyss1/status/1305252158741282817) for the inspiration. I also wrote this as a [Huxloween](https://twitter.com/huxloween) fill, specifically sacrifice, ghosts, trapped souls, summoning, dark magic, and corruption. 
> 
> For the MCD, they both die multiple times, none of them permanent. The one that hangs over the story is Kylo's death in TRoS, but several other events in the movies lead to non-permanent death in the fic, especially in TLJ. ~~Additionally, I did not tag this for graphic depictions of violence~~ , since I avoided graphically describing anything, but there is a lot of non-graphic blood and violence. The sacrifice ritual is fairly heartless (and frequent), but never described in great detail. See the end notes for that and a few other warnings.

On a short list of things Armitage Hux had zero interest in, geological surface analysis would have been near the top, along with Nautolan neurochemistry and traditional Solarian dancing. But here he was, with orders to muster expertise and enthusiasm for the subject. 

“Excellent” was the intelligent response he managed after the head of his scanning team reported back, sounding eager. He dredged his memory for any positive way to engage with the incomprehensible report. “It seems we’ve chosen an appropriate time of year to conduct the surveys. Begin the deep scans at the likeliest points for mineral analysis.”

“Yes, sir.” the lieutenant saluted crisply and turned back to his terminal, apparently satisfied.

They were on the surface of WS-19557, carrying out the initial planning for the planetary superweapon that would eventually become the Starkiller project, even greater than the Death Star. Hux had been given command, despite his young age, presumably because the project was doomed to fail from the start. The idea of a weapon of Starkiller's scale was laughable, the name was ridiculous, and Hux hadn’t even been allowed to choose the site for the weapon. He’d simply been given these coordinates.

Despite all that, he would make it work, because there was no other option. There would be no way to dismiss him from the project if it became successful. If plans for Starkiller went forward, he would automatically be given a seat at High Command and skyrocket to the top of the First Order. If he failed, he would remain a major for the rest of his life, always second to the useless trumped-up ex-Imperials, and he’d had quite enough of that.

There was no question in his mind he would succeed, that he would build the weapon that would bring the new Republic to its knees and give the First Order rule of the galaxy. He, personally, would be responsible. He mostly enjoyed the thought of rubbing it in the faces of everyone who'd tried to hold him back - his father, his father's friends, his old academy instructors, fellow officers who'd crossed him over the years. He shifted now. Hux held few things so dear as his grudges, and was deeply motivated by retaliation. Success was its own kind of victory, though it wouldn't be enough to satisfy on its own.

The result was that he badly wanted to succeed at this impossible task, and it gave him a foreign sense of purpose for his assignment. He had only ever been involved with his father's Stormtrooper program, most recently with recruiting, which he was terrible at. Pretending to care about anything was not a strength, and he was eager to be away from it.

“You don’t need the scans to do the mineral analysis,” a voice drawled, entirely too casually, and too near Hux.

Hux turned, regarding his co-commander. For some reason, the Supreme Leader’s pet apprentice, Kylo Ren, had also been given this command. Hux had no particular feelings about this. He knew Ren casually, had met him a year ago and had spent time with him irregularly since. Kylo Ren seemed content to stay separate from the military procedure that drove the project, and had yet to speak since he’d boarded the shuttle this morning. This interruption had been the first.

He was standing near Hux in the center of the small command shuttle, his hands behind his back. Hux had no idea where he'd emerged from, but he looked fresher than usual. His floor-length tunic looked new, and he wasn't wearing his helmet. His dark hair was as disheveled as always, but at least it was clean today. Hux had lectured him on looking the part of a commander the night before. Ren had refused the uniform, but had agreed to forego his helmet and at least wear something that wasn't riddled with blaster burns.

Hux raised his eyebrows at Ren's interruption. “Do you happen to have a secret map of WS-19557 stashed away on your comm?”

Annoyance crossed Ren’s features, but he brought out his comm and punched at it angrily before shoving it in Hux's face. “It's not a secret. There’s a subterranean cave network at these coordinates. You can send your excavation party there for… whatever it is you need to analyze.”

Hux’s eyes darted between the map on Ren’s comm and Ren’s surly expression, skeptical of the offer. “Whatever it is I need to analyze. You seem quite well-briefed on what we’re doing, Commander Ren.” This jab was uncalled-for, since Hux didn’t know what he was looking for, either. But it was hard to resist needling Ren. “How did you come by the coordinates to this cave?”

Ren shrugged, and his gaze shifted somewhere over Hux's shoulder. “I’ve been here before.”

Hux allowed himself a grunt of surprise. “To WS-19557? Why? It’s a frozen wasteland. There’s nothing but rock.”

“It has a name,” Ren said, meeting Hux’s gaze again, then dropping it, stowing his comm and tucking his hands behind his back again. “Ilum. I’ve been here more than once.”

“Ilum.” It didn’t matter what the name was, or who used to call it that. It was Starkiller now. But their three-day survey had very little for the two of them to do, and Hux was curious. “And what does one do on Ilum more than once?”

Ren turned and looked out the viewport of the command deck. There was little to see. They were hovering in a canyon, with black rock angling up sharply on either side. If there had been a river here at some point in the past, it had dried up eons ago.

“It was a sacred location for the Jedi Order. It’s the largest known source of kyber crystal in the galaxy.”

“Kyber?” The word came out dully, but that was mostly Hux’s attempt to quell his excitement. “That’s one of the most powerful conductors known to science.” Hux knew almost nothing about such things, but he knew that, at least. “Are you saying there’s an abundance here?”

“Yeah.” Ren turned back to him, looking amused. “It’s been found other places. But the conditions it forms under are rare, so the deposits are usually small. Ilum is the only known exception. It was where the Jedi came to get the crystals for their lightsabers.”

“The Jedi’s lightsabers use a kyber energy matrix?” That was… the implications of that, relative to the Starkiller project, were astonishing. He’d reviewed material that suggested that the Death Star lasers used quantities of kyber, but to his knowledge, those were mysterious sources, and the kyber was unrecoverable. Hux closed the distance between them. “Kyber’s all but mythical. You’re telling me it’s here?”

“I’ve seen it. I’ve pulled it myself. My lightsaber uses a kyber energy matrix generated from a crystal I got here, from the cave at that location.” Ren smirked, likely picking up on Hux's interest. “I can show you. I know the interior of the caves too, not just where the entrance is.”

Hux’s mind reviewed the possibilities, all the ways that this could turn out to be nothing. “But the kyber used in Jedi weapons must be small stones. Will it do us any good to know it’s here?” Hux paused. “Other than to sell?”

“The crystals are all sizes. They're boulder-sized, and as small as grains of sand. They're all there, you just have to use the Force to pull them.”

Hux frowned. The talk of Kylo Ren’s mystical ‘Force’ couldn’t be avoided. Since meeting him, Hux had to acknowledge that the powers attributed to the Jedi were real, and not just a myth perpetuated by the Republic to seem more powerful than they were. But Hux wasn’t entirely convinced by Ren’s explanations, either. Kylo Ren was a fanatic, and had a tendency to go off on tangents when Hux tried to explain how impossible his alleged powers were.

But airing his doubts now was useless, if Ren was offering to show him raw kyber. So he nodded and agreed, his expression neutral. “Of course. The Force.”

Ren wasn’t fooled, and the smirk disappeared from his face. “I don’t need to use it in front of you if you don’t want to see it.”

“I don’t care about your powers,” Hux dismissed, honestly. “But I do want to see the kyber cave network. If you’ve been there, will you show me?”

Ren grinned, his crooked teeth flashing, and it lit his face. It was a rare sight, and Hux held back a smirk at the thought of Kylo Ren being so eager to do him a favor. 

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

* * *

They took a small fighter out to Ren’s coordinates, Ren doing the piloting himself. He flew recklessly, swinging the vehicle entirely too close to trees and rock formations, but Hux refused to give him the benefit of complaining. Ren would only use it as an excuse to brag about his flying skills.

But the weather really was ideal for the types of scans they were doing, and most of the projected storms had failed to materialize. Ren’s recklessness was exhilarating, and Hux had never been with someone who did anything like it. His heart raced as he watched the dull landscape come too close to their ship, and tightened his grip on his seat as Ren flew showily inside a cave and abruptly braked, throwing them forward and settling the ship in a rough, fast landing.

The outdoor temperature of WS-19557 was well below human tolerance, and deadly without the special temp-treated interior of trooper armor. Hux had worn his greatcoat and gloves, with the collar of his coat turned up and the flaps of his had turned down, but stepping out of the fighter, even inside the cave, took his breath away.

But, then again, so did the cave itself. Far from being tiny chips of rock that were functionally useless as anything but trinkets, the kyber cave was even better than Ren had promised. The chambers were massive, and included underground springs that had frozen in place as they cascaded down the rock faces. As Ren led him deeper into the maze of tunnels, their path was brightly lit by the mineral itself, which glowed in every color. The stones emerged from gray and black boulders as both tiny chips and enormous crystals the size of the fighter. The largest and brightest glowed aquamarine and jutted from the rock face near the top of a large central waterfall where the cave split into other passages.

“Beautiful,” Hux allowed, and glanced over at the brilliant smile that lit Ren’s face. Ren was always starved for praise, but this time Hux didn’t mind giving it. This was one of the most extraordinary things Hux had seen in his life.

Hux stopped and turned more fully to him, eager to hear more. “Is this why you were given command? Because you were familiar with the cave?”

Ren shrugged, still smirking. “I really don't know. Maybe? I can mine the rock with the Force, too.”

Hux, now that he was actually in the cave, was less inclined to be charitable about the Force. He waved Ren's comment away dismissively. “We can mine the rock with equipment, we don’t need magic for that.”

“No,” Ren looked annoyed again, but put out a palm, closing his eyes. “But you need me to show you where the largest ones are, right?”

“You can tell?”

“Yeah.” Ren laid a palm against a large violet stone, smooth against the rock face. “The one by the waterfall isn’t… it’s not one of the largest.” He withdrew his palm and opened his eyes, his brown gaze resting on Hux again. “How big do they have to be to be useful?”

The question made Hux giddy. He wasn’t familiar enough with the theoretical weaponry proposed for Starkiller to know, so he gave a noncommittal answer instead. “The bigger the better.”

Ren turned, looking deeper down the passage they'd been following. Hux’s breath clouded around him, and he drew his arms across his chest, shivering in his greatcoat. The temperature in the cave was still warmer than the surface, but the exposed skin of his face was painful, and he was sniffling to stop his nose from running. But he was in such a good mood he ignored all of it. He turned and ran a gloved hand over the violet stone that Ren had just touched, idly picking at its edges. He wanted to touch it with his bare fingers. Would it draw off his body heat? Would it be warm? The risk of frostbite was almost worth it. But it would be foolish to pull at it now, when he could have all of it for himself with nothing more than patience.

Ren was watching him pick at the stone. “I was thinking of grabbing another core for my lightsaber while I was here.”

It was the kind of offhand comment that always made Hux wonder if Ren actually was reading his thoughts. He claimed he could, but Hux assumed he was exaggerating. But before Hux could say something in rebuttal, Ren drew his lightsaber hilt from his belt and activated it, the blue blade cutting through the chill of the air and brightening the tunnel further with its steady light.

Hux had only seen Ren activate his lightsaber on two occasions, but he’d watched holos of him using it endlessly. Hux was utterly fascinated by the weapon, and Ren’s singular brutality with it, though it was something he would never willingly admit to Ren. For practical purposes, the elegance and speed of a blaster pistol made more sense, but part of him would always be attracted to the barbarism of Ren’s plasma sword.

 _Ren’s_ plasma sword, specifically. He’d looked up the archived holos of the old Jedi using them, but it wasn’t the same. They had an elegance and dignity to their style that Ren disregarded. In fact, it had been Hux’s first experience watching Ren use his lightsaber that had led to Hux introducing himself, and eventually inviting Ren into his bed for the casual relationship they shared now.

There was a part of him that knew full well that most people did not choose their lovers by witnessing them piercing an enemy through the throat, then body-slamming them into a muddy field. It was one of many things Hux recognized was broken within him, but he also lacked the capacity to worry about it.

He realized he’d been staring too long at the hilt in Ren’s hand, and he looked up to see Ren smirking at him, his face shadowed eerily by the light of the blade. Hux shrugged, in too good a mood to make excuses for himself.

“It won’t be too different from your current weapon, surely?”

Ren held the hilt up between them. “I was still a Jedi when I made this, so it’s still a Jedi weapon. It should be a lot different with a new core.”

“Hmm.” That was a shame. Hux’s eyes went back to the wall, to the stone he’d been picking at. He wasn’t a sentimental man, and hardly kept junk laying around his quarters, but... “Would you use your powers to harvest a stone for me? I’d like to keep it, to remember the beginning of the project.”

Ren’s expression softened in a way that usually came before he said something stupid. They fucked, and Hux enjoyed that immensely, but Hux had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in more than that, from Ren or anyone else. He regarded Ren as a friend with benefits, which was the closest relationship Hux had ever bothered to share with anyone. They were only that close because Ren was persistent.

Ren took the lack of outright rejection as encouragement, and often spoke of their ‘exclusive’ relationship in a way that made it sound both possessive, and like he was accusing Hux of fucking other people. Hux hardly needed to bother with anyone else when Ren was so eager, and the accusation always made him laugh. 

He was not the lover that Ren wanted him to be. Hux, in fact, hated most people and saw very little purpose in sentimental connection, which he was very clear about. It seemed to be something Ren found charming. Hux meant it as a warning. Ren would inevitably be disappointed when it became inconvenient to have a co-commander for the Starkiller project. 

But instead of saying something foolish, Ren surprised him. “Yeah, I’ll get one for you. I’ll make it into a lightsaber for you too, if you want.”

Hux’s eyes widened in surprise. He’d been sure Ren was fond enough of him to use his unique powers to extract a valuable gift from the cave walls, technically committing a form of larceny against the First Order. But he hadn't thought to ask for his own lightsaber.

“Is it really that simple? You could make me a weapon like yours?”

Ren looked annoyed, and flipped his lightsaber off, making the cave noticeably dimmer. “There’s nothing simple about it. I’m not assembling a fucking assault rifle. I’m probably the only person in the galaxy that could do it for you.”

His gaze was intent, angry. This was the Ren that Hux found attractive, and he felt warmth spread through his body despite the cold. Part of him wanted to say yes and simply placate Ren. But Ren was always much more fun to provoke. “The only person in the galaxy? I’m under the impression that you were taught by some other Jedi. Who still lives.”

Bringing up his mysterious old master reliably set him off, sometimes in ways that triggered his temper. It was how Hux had gotten his own personal glimpse of the lightsaber the second time.

Ren looked away, turning to face the entrance of the cave. “Nevermind. Talking to you is a waste of time.”

Hux was almost hurt that Ren didn’t rise to the bait. “No, I shouldn’t have said that.” It wasn’t an apology, but it did make Ren stop short, his back to Hux. Honesty wouldn’t hurt, and would only endear Ren to him. “You know how much I admire your saber. I would enjoy that. Truly.”

Ren turned back, his eyes eerily bright in the strange florescent lighting of the kyber, his breath coming out in a huff. “I want to give it to you. I can do it.”

Hux smiled, and put on his flattering act for Ren. “What color stone would you choose for me? What color would it make the blade?” It would be little more than a toy, but if Hux was getting a stone anyway, the lightsaber made by Ren would be even better. Lightsabers were outrageous collector’s items. If he got into a bad situation, he could sell it. It might prove to be an unexpected method of self-defense, too.

Ren tilted his head. “That depends on you. I would choose a stone that called to you in the Force. The saber would be attuned to you.”

Hux waved it away. “Unnecessary. It won’t need to be specific if I don’t believe in the Force.”

“Actually, I’ve been doing some reading,” Ren began, stepping closer, his expression more manic. “Some theories in the Force. Something I want to try with our new sabers. Since I’m making two.”

Hux was suspicious. “Is this why you got assigned the co-command?” Another thought hit him. “Is this why _I_ got assigned the command?” He didn’t quite believe Ren had that kind of pull, regardless of his status as the Supreme Leader’s apprentice. Still, the thought was infuriating. If it was true, Ren wouldn't be leaving the caves. Hux didn't need handouts, or favors, or whatever this was. 

Ren shook his head, and spread his hands. “No. I didn’t have anything to do with that. It was the will of the Force.”

"It was the will of a person, Ren. Was that person you? Did you tell the Supreme Leader to put me on this mission? Did you suggest the location for the weapon?"

Ren scowled, his mood turning again. "I don't tell the Supreme Leader anything." This was said with such venom that Hux filed it away - it was probably the truth, but also odd. Why wouldn't he take advantage of his status as an apprentice? "And no, I didn't suggest they defile a sacred Jedi planet. I wish I had."

He seemed genuinely upset, so Hux didn't think he was lying. Hux also knew he would have bragged about the planet, had it been his idea. Hux's own temper cooled, but he was still suspicious. "You expect me to believe this weapon location is a coincidence? There has to be a reason they chose it."

"You're the one that read the brief, not me. What did it say?"

"It didn't."

"Then it wasn't a coincidence. It was the will of the Force."

Hux barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Something seemed wrong, but accusing Ren of lying would only cause him to dig in, or go off on a tangent about the power of the Force, or both. But Hux was satisfied that Ren hadn't had anything to do with Hux's involvement with the mission, and he relaxed.

“I don't think the Force has anything to do with military strategy, Ren."

Ren took a step forward, his fists bunched at his sides, and he leaned forward into Hux's space. "Do you have any idea what I do?"

"No." Ren had never intimidated him, and Hux waved off both his temper and the question now. "But can we-"

"Look. Do you want the lightsaber or not?"

Hux was freezing, and he wanted to go back to the command ship, or at least the nearby fighter. He wondered if Ren would pull both crystals while he warmed up. "I do. But I want-"

"I don't care what you want." Ren was very close now, his warm breath clouding between them. Hux wanted him closer, so his breath would warm his face. "I'm going to do this anyway. And I want to try something when I do."

"Then do it! I’m not going to be using it-”

“Stop,” Ren interrupted sharply, cutting off Hux’s protest. Hux balked at the barked command, but did as Ren asked. 

Ren blinked, clearly trying to reign in his anger, but still avid about whatever he wanted to do with their magical swords. “You’d probably use it. And so would I. What I want to try doesn’t have anything to do with the sabers as weapons. It’s… I found some archives in the Works, on Coruscant. It’s a part of the city that was abandoned before the end of the Empire, but there were rumors- true ones, because I’ve seen it, that there were Sith there. I’ve seen the Sith archives. I want to try something I saw about resurrection.”

Hux didn’t interrupt, but only because he’d been taught long ago to hold his tongue. Resurrection. Ridiculous. But he let Ren continue.

“It’s possible to forge a pair of lightsabers for two people, and if one person dies, the other can perform a blood ritual and use the saber to bring them back to life.”

“So, if you die, I can use a lightsaber to bring you back to life.” Hux couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice. “And you believe this is true?”

Ren’s eyes darted away, annoyed. “I’m sure it is. Based on everything else I found there. I don’t think this Sith dealt in legends.” He looked back to Hux. “Only facts.”

“Facts. I see. So you have the knowledge to bring yourself back to life. You know where to get a fantastically rare energy source to accomplish this. You are one of the only people that can build the mechanism to do it. And you have your own merry band of Force users that would probably be interested in all of this, and resurrect you on command, if needed. And yet, you chose me. And you think I would bring you back to life, if you died... out of the goodness of my heart?”

Hux was freezing, and his mood was deteriorating. He couldn’t stop himself from cupping his elbows and shivering violently. But before he could announce he was returning to the fighter, Ren grabbed his arm roughly, pulling until his enormous gloved palm wrapped around Hux’s own hand. Sensation radiated from between their hands, a comfortable warmth that chased the chill from Hux’s body, and even the pain from the exposed skin on his face.

Ren’s magic. Hux glanced up from their palms into Ren’s expression, sure this was about to get ridiculous. Ren did not disappoint, though he still looked annoyed.

“It’s… the ritual itself, it’s not something I would do with the Knights.” He gestured around them. “I wouldn’t take them here, or show them this. And we have to pick the stones together, so our souls are bound together. I don’t really want to do that with them.”

Hux was amused, rather than annoyed. “Bind our souls together? That sounds very serious. Should I be flattered?”

“Yes, but I’m not surprised you’re being an asshole about it. You know it works both ways, right? The resurrection?” Ren leaned in closer, his angry gaze boring into Hux’s. “I know you think I’m dumb and reckless in fights. But how sure are you that you can see your next little petty backstabbing coming, Major Hux?”

Hux frowned and pulled away, but Ren kept his hand, and squeezed it hard enough to make his bones ache. “It’s nonsense. What does it matter to me?”

“The good thing about the Force is that it’s true whether you believe in it or not. You wanted the lightsaber, Hux. I can feel that. From you, it’s intense, because you don’t really want or care about anything. So I’m giving you one. I’m asking you to do a ritual with me now, and to learn another one when I deliver the finished hilt to you. In return, when one of your lieutenants gets tired of taking orders from you, or when one of your ex-Imperials thinks you’ve gotten too big for your post, I will fix that for you.”

Hux licked his lips involuntarily. His breath still fogged between them, because the cave was still bitterly cold. But Hux couldn't feel it. Ren's magic flowed between them, and Hux couldn't look away from the fanatic look on his face. From the promise that Ren would _fix it_ if anyone made a move against Hux.

In terms of revenge, having Kylo Ren take out his enemies was like bringing a turbolaser to a fistfight. The promise pulled at something inside him, both his desire for calculated revenge and his desire for Ren's brutality. He stared into Ren's eyes, lit eerily by the low light of one of the most valuable minerals in the galaxy. Ren looked unremarkable and young without his helmet, and he tucked his hair impatiently behind an ear, completely oblivious to the deadly cold of the cave. 

Dangerous. So dangerous.

“Fix it for me,” Hux repeated, knowing it was all too good to be true. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t do with his own two hands. Ren was spouting nonsense, and he’d let Ren get too close to him. Still. One thing that Ren possessed was fanatic devotion. It was one of the things Hux liked best about him, and it always made him wonder what it was like to feel that way, rather than pretend. Even if the ritual was a child’s tale, it was useful if Ren believed it.

“Will you kill them for me, too? If it happens?”

Ren smiled, and it was dark and eager. He took Hux’s other hand and threaded their fingers together. The heat between them grew more intense. “Sure. I figured you were the type to fix it yourself, though.”

Hux scoffed, exhaling another vapor cloud between them. He wouldn’t be able to take revenge if he was dead, but he liked the idea of Ren killing his enemies for him, if they got to him first.

He stared into Ren's grave expression, and he wondered how far he could push him. "And what if I say no? Will you still make the lightsaber, if I don't want our souls bound together?"

Ren's brow creased. "I thought you said it didn't matter to you. That you didn't even believe in it." Ren straightened, leaning back slightly and looking suspicious. "I can sense that you don't believe it."

Hux rolled a shoulder, studying Ren's expression. "Maybe I don't want to encourage your ardor. You know I don't feel the same way about you."

Ren squeezed his hands harder again, looking angry. "I also know you don't care how I feel. So let me do this for you."

Hux tipped his head to the side. "What if I don't want to? What if I say no to the saber, and the ritual?"

"Hux-" Ren stepped forward again, holding their hands up higher. A distinct pleading entered his voice, which Hux had never heard outside the bedroom before. "Armitage. Isn't the lightsaber enough of a reason to let me try whatever I want with the Force?"

Hux frowned at the use of his first name. He was only ever called by his rank or his first name, since _Hux_ was his father. He hated being called Armitage - it was patronizing and degrading, something the ex-Imperials still did to hold power over him. He'd made it clear to Ren that he wasn't to use it if he wanted to enjoy Hux's bed.

"Do I actually get a choice, or are you going to do it anyway?" Hux's voice sharpened as he realized Ren's pleading would go the way it always did. Ren would do as he liked, come and go as he liked, say what he liked to Hux. Kylo Ren could not be dissuaded or driven away.

"Come on. Don't say it like that." Ren rolled his eyes. "It doesn't fucking matter to you. You get the lightsaber out of it anyway, right?"

Hux sighed, conceding. He really didn't care. But the lack of choice irked him. “Very well. Bind our souls together, or whatever it is you intend to do in this cave.”

Ren closed his eyes, expression stony, and tightened his grip on Hux’s hands. Hux felt a distinct crawling sensation over his skin, itching just under his uniform. He squirmed, trying to shake it, but was distracted by an uncanny sensation of something _filling_ his body, a tingling that raced from his palms to his toes and filled him in a way that the warmth of Ren's magic, or even lust, never did. Inexplicably, the feeling of it settled in his head, muffling every thought. 

It felt like drowning, and Hux began to hyperventilate. He shifted again and tried to pull away from Ren, but Ren tightened his grip, and Hux realized his legs were frozen in place. 

“Ren, wait, what are-”

“Look at the stones,” Ren intoned flatly, his brow pinching. “Ignore the physical. You don’t have to do anything else. I only need you to look at the stones.”

Ignoring the physical was impossible, because it was all Hux could think or feel. "How am I supposed to ignore this? You didn't tell me it would be-"

"Shut up," Ren snapped. "You don't need to talk. This is harder than it looks. The sooner you look at the stones, the sooner it'll be over."

Hux wanted to protest, but he knew it would be pointless. It didn't hurt, not really, so he shoved down his unease and darted his gaze around at the stones just as Ren requested. He concentrated on breathing and wondered what he was supposed to be looking at.

After a moment, Ren cursed and opened his eyes again, every one of the new sensations dissipating abruptly. “Do you have a knife on you?”

Hux made a face, but loosened his right hand from Ren’s and made the motion to deploy his wrist holster, his monomolecular blade in his palm in an instant. 

Ren looked unimpressed. “Okay, fine. Since you can’t draw on the Force, the binding needs to be more intimate.” Hux wanted to object to _intimate_ , but Ren was pulling off his own left glove with his teeth, dropping it and holding his bare palm to Hux. “Cut my palm open, then yours. Our blood will mingle that way, then I’ll try again. I think it should work with only one hand.”

Hux wrinkled his nose, disgusted by the thought of holding their bloody palms together. “ _Our blood will mingle?_ That isn’t hygienic.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “Neither was what we did last night, but that didn’t stop you.”

Hux grunted, properly chastised. Obediently, he swiped the blade across Ren’s palm, likely deeper than necessary. It took a moment for the blood to well in the cut. When it did, it flowed freely down Ren’s wrist, soaking into the cuff of his tunic.

Then, Ren snatched the blade from Hux’s hand and made an impatient gesture for Hux to continue. Hux frowned at the blood smeared on the durasteel handle of the blade, but dutifully removed his own glove with his teeth and presented his bare palm to Ren. He didn’t flinch when Ren returned the cut, just as deep as the one Hux had made. There was a prick of pain, then a throbbing, but both sensations were numbed almost immediately. He watched, fascinated, as drops of his own blood froze before they reached the ground.

Ren made another grunt of impatience, and Hux took back his blade and stowed it. Ren immediately grabbed his hand, and it was just as slick and disgusting as Hux had imagined. Ren squeezed hard, and the blood ran between the heels of their hands. Hux didn’t have long to dislike the mess, because his body almost immediately filled with the unpleasant muzzy tingling from before, faster and more overpowering this time. It felt as if he’d lost part of himself, and he began breathing hard again, feeling every hair on his body stand up. He clenched his jaw to keep himself steady, and began looking at the stones in the wall of the cave again, determined to get this over with before Ren could complain.

Steadying himself against Ren's power this time, Hux took in the stones more slowly, stopping a moment on each before flicking his attention to the next. There were a lot of stones, and his gaze passed over the tiny, muted spots of color in favor of brighter, larger deposits. He wasn't entirely sure what Ren thought would happen, but it didn't take long for Ren to grunt in triumph.

Hux frowned at the nondescript white stone he'd stopped on, looking at the others around it, then at Ren's face, trying to understand what was different about it. Ren's features were creased in concentration, and he released Hux's gloved hand and put his palm out. Hux stared at Ren's outstretched hand stupidly, not understanding what was happening, but was quickly distracted by the crumbling sound of separating rock. A moment later, a single dull crystal floated impossibly through the air and landed in Ren's palm.

Levitating objects was a favorite hobby of Ren's, and Hux had long since grown used to it. He snatched the kyber crystal from Ren, eager to see what an intact and allegedly useful piece of the stone looked like. The piece in his hand was colorless, not tinted as Hux had expected. It was cloudy and opaque, and larger than what Hux would have thought useful for the hilt of a lightsaber. The crystal formation was rectangular, and surprisingly rough - he wondered if Ren needed to shape it further, or the kyber was inserted raw.

Had Ren handed him the stone on the _Absolution_ , while they were having drinks and complaining to one another, Hux wouldn't have believed it to be kyber. He would have thrown Ren out for the sin of unconvincing lies.

Suspicion came naturally to him, and he wondered if Ren was putting him on now. He held the stone to Ren, accusatory. “This is it? This is what powers a lightsaber?”

“This is what powers your lightsaber,” Ren responded, sounding pleased with himself as he plucked the crystal from Hux’s grip with his gloved hand, then stowing it into his tunic. “I need one for mine. Give me your hands again, and close your eyes this time.”

“Wouldn't want your secrets to get out,” Hux replied sarcastically, not sure what Ren intended by not letting him watch. He felt himself filling up with the unpleasant sensation again, hating it even more with his eyes closed. Looking at the stones had been a distraction. Why must he be blind for this? It wasn’t as if he could duplicate or explain whatever it was that Ren was doing. If the ritual was as real as Ren claimed, Hux would never be capable of it.

“You can't do it, but I can help you,” Ren replied quietly, and Hux was immediately horrified by the confirmation that Ren could read his thoughts. He felt Ren shift his grip slightly, and his voice went more contrite. “I exaggerated how easy it is for me to read specific thoughts. But I can do it when we’re close like this. And yeah, the sabers and the resurrection ritual will all work. I know you don’t trust anything, but I'll prove it. The Force is real, and you’re part of it, even if you can’t feel it.”

“I feel it quite strongly at the moment,” Hux replied shortly, nearly sick with the sensation.

“Don’t open your eyes,” Ren ordered sharply, his voice going hard. “I’m almost done. I can feel the pull of it… here,” he finished, sounding pleased. “Okay. Put your palm out.”

Hux raised his gloved hand just as Ren had, leaving their bloody palms clutched together. Pulling them apart when they finished would be disgusting.

But that thought, along with everything else, fled his head as the sensation of _everything_ intensified beyond bearing. It felt like being struck by lightning in reverse, a sharp pain jolting from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, anchoring him to the rock of the cave. He cried out, unable to stop himself, and found he was unable to open his eyes or move at all.

“Stop,” Ren commanded, his voice strained. “This is harder than I thought. Just endure it, a little…” 

Hux felt a _snap_ as something inside of him parted forever, a sharp severing sensation, followed by a burning. Ren's Force hold on his body let go, and he was vaguely aware of falling to the ground, his shoulder and hip striking the rock and the cold immediately seeping through his uniform as both the burning sensation and Ren's ambient warmth leeched from his body. The cold was welcome, and he focused on that as he tried to stop himself from vomiting. Whatever Ren had done had left him feeling feeble, a kind of full-body ache, worse than the official and unofficial beatings that he used to take as a cadet. He wasn't entirely sure he could stand.

Ren interrupted Hux's misery, sounding triumphant. “I got it. I had to draw it through you, and I didn’t know if that would work. But it did.”

Once he was sure he wouldn’t be sick all over himself, Hux rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and the dim light from the kyber crystals didn't illuminate the cave distinctly anymore. He was aware of Ren as a silhouette, leaning over him from above.

“You knew it would hurt,” he accused. “You prick.”

He heard Ren shift. “I didn't. I'd read about doing something like that before, being able to sense and select with the Force through another person. But it was just information for the Force user. It didn't say what it felt like for the other person."

Hux swallowed down bile, and closed his eyes. "If you do any further experiments on me, I will kill you. I swear it."

"The next one isn't an experiment. Everything's pretty straightforward. And you can kill me all you want after that, as long as you bring me back to life."

"I'll certainly want to kill you. I'm not as certain about the urge to bring you back."

This made Ren laugh. "Whatever. Besides, even if I'd known it would hurt, you still would have done it. You wanted the lightsaber at least that bad."

Hux resented the truth of that, and refused to acknowledge it. Even if Ren had warned him it would be painful, he would have disregarded it. He'd endured a lot as a test subject for the psychological and physical programming in the First Order over the years, and would have assumed he could handle Ren's Force. But this was a kind of full-body painful exhaustion that he had never experienced, and was finding overly distressing. He was embarrassed and angry to be reduced in front of Ren like this.

Weakly, he planted his hands against the ground and pushed himself into a sitting position, realizing that his bare, injured hand was completely numb, and he hadn’t even noticed it tearing it from Ren’s. He groped around for his lost glove, still unable to see it in the low light. Ren shifted again, and the glove was in front of Hux's face. Hux slid it over his bloody palm, which was filthy and much the worse for wear. He’d hate Ren even more later, when he was forced to clean it and give himself a bacta treatment.

Abruptly, Ren grabbed his uninjured hand and yanked him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him somewhere. Hux felt the warmth of his magic again, deceptively gentle. He curled his lip, and tried to push his thoughts into some kind of clarity. They were slow and angry, and he was having trouble processing what Ren was doing to him. 

It took him several minutes to realize that Ren was dragging him back through the tunnels to their fighter in the large chamber near the mouth of the cave. The sight of the fighter brought him nothing but relief. He decided to blame the cave for his misery, rather than Ren. He wanted to leave and never return, and realized with a jolt of pleasure that he would never need to come back. He could order the cave stripped and destroyed in due time. The retaliation was a comfort.

The blast of warmth and stale circulated air inside the fighter brought him somewhat back to himself, enough that he was able to swat Ren’s hands away as Ren guided him into the passenger seat. 

“Are our souls bound now?” he mocked weakly. He wanted to be angry with Ren, but mostly, he was tired.

“Yeah, actually, they are.” Ren's announcement was confident, as if it wasn't poetic garbage. Hux's vision had cleared, and he could see Ren looking the happiest Hux had ever seen him. He was grinning wide, and he used a hand to push his hair behind an ear, his eyes warm. After staring at Hux for a moment, he reached inside his tunic and withdrew the two milky crystals, studying them carefully. They sat in his gloved palm, and though both crystals were large, so was Ren's hand.

The stones were identical, and Hux made a dismayed sound. “You put them together in your pocket? How will you tell them apart? Didn't you do that ritual because they needed to be unique?”

Ren made a derisive noise, but the look on his face was gentle when he glanced back to Hux. “I can tell them apart. Although…” He looked at the stones curiously, then stretched his palm closer to Hux. “Can you?”

Hux raised his eyebrows, his gaze dropping to the stones again. He wanted to deny it and call Ren a fool, but before he could speak, he realized he could feel a sort of pull from one of the stones. And it did have a slight glow that the other did not.

He made a considering noise, intrigued. There really shouldn’t be any difference. But. “The one on the left. That one’s mine.”

“Yeah.” Ren grinned again and slid the stones back into his robe. He put a hand on Hux’s knee, and crouched awkwardly next to him in the confined space of the fighter. “Are you okay? Really? Should we tell the crew you need a med-droid when we get back?”

“Absolutely not,” Hux protested, horrified by the implication of aborting his first command because he was _ill_. His father would kill him, and rightfully so. It would almost be worth it to have Ren murder Brendol in return. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” It was a lie, but he changed the subject. “How long will it take to make the sabers?”

Ren made a considering noise, apparently satisfied that Hux was healthy, though Hux wasn't entirely sure he would be able to stand and leave the fighter when they landed. Ren's gaze was intent, but it usually was, so it was difficult for Hux to tell what he was thinking.

“I can’t start the sabers until we’re done on Ilum. And I’ll probably have another active mission right after this.” He glanced away in annoyance. Hux had never been clear on where Ren’s missions came from, or what they entailed, but they seemed to make him angry or happy, with nothing in between. “It may take some trial and error. I’ll let you know when I get back from Tenzen.”

Hux grunted in agreement, and watched Ren turn and climb into the pilot’s seat. He didn’t know where or what Tenzen was, exactly, but it didn’t matter. He was patient. He could wait. And it wasn’t like he was ever going to use it, anyway. He’d just wave it around in the privacy of his own quarters, like a fool.

But it would be his, and it would be a powerful and invaluable artifact from a Force user that was smitten with him to the point that he believed Hux held his life in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The resurrection ritual (which is not in this chapter, but will be in most of the others) involves the "heart's blood" of a Force-sensitive individual. This is accomplished by stunning the individual unconscious, then fatally extracting said blood with a knife. The extraction is never described more graphically than that, but the blood is alluded to, mostly because it makes a mess.
> 
> In this chapter, they perform a kind of blood oath, where they cut their palms and press them together, as part of a Force ritual so that Kylo can pull the Force through Hux and pick a kyber crystal. The blood is described as flowing down their wrists, and Hux briefly speculates about their palms getting stuck together and having to clean his cut later.
> 
> Neither of them has qualms about killing (mostly faceless) individuals, or about dying themselves.
> 
> They do kill each other more than once. This is handled humorously, though as the plot catches up to the movies, the (quick and painless) deaths are attributed to a loss of control, and are more Dramatic. More details on that later, or you can ask me for details and I'll elaborate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited the tags, hopefully for the last time. The violence will still be consistent with the warning in the last chapter, and the worst of it is not actually described or occurs elsewhere. But there are later discussions about cartoonish deaths, and I felt better tagging it. If you read this far, you probably know what you're in for, but I apologize for the addition.
> 
> Chapter-specific warnings in the end notes.

Hux didn’t see or speak to Ren for over six standard weeks as the excavation work on Starkiller began in earnest. As far as their professional relationship went, it was exactly what Hux wanted. Hux didn’t need Ren’s input on the project, and there was little enough for Hux to do himself.

Other than reviewing daily progress reports to confirm the work stayed within schedule and budget, his first command was disappointingly mundane. Hux knew nothing about geology or the drilling and mining feats that would need to occur for well over a year before any other work could commence, so there was nothing for him to contribute. He had officers and scientists that submitted positive reports, and that was the extent of his involvement. 

He was leery about oversight and accountability from High Command, but so far, he’d received no directives, advice, or even requests to submit progress. It was annoying, as no one would notice the work he’d put into organizing and executing the plans. However, he enjoyed the idea of emerging from a forgotten project with a modern Death Star. They could hardly take it from him after that.

With nothing to command, Hux was forced to continue his father’s errand boy assignments for the training department, fetching new recruits and administering their first round of loyalty programming. It was easy work, though the thinly-veiled admiration of the new recruits no longer gave him the thrill it once did. At one point, he had also enjoyed the jealousy and animosity from his fellow officers in the program over his admittedly easy posting, but now that he had his own command, the rivalry no longer interested him. The hostility hadn’t gone away, so Hux still had to be wary of _accidents_ , which was annoying.

It was in the midst of the vague dissatisfaction that Ren reappeared, his timing as eerily perfect as always. Hux’s possessiveness of Starkiller had abated somewhat, and getting his brains fucked out always managed to settle him. Ren was generous with his cock when asked, and Hux was always further buoyed by crushing Ren’s expectations for both the nature of their relationship and Hux’s personality. This time, Ren would also have new lightsabers, which Hux had been dwelling on excessively since they'd left Ilum.

Hux was so eager to see Ren that he was waiting in the hangar of the _Absolution_ when Ren emerged from his fighter.

“I haven’t forgotten," he announced as soon as Ren appeared.

Both Ren and the fighter looked much the worse for wear. One of the fighter’s engines had begun to smoke as soon as it hit the oxygen inside the hangar, and it had taken so much cannon damage that Hux wasn't sure how it was still whole. Ren was limping and mud-covered as he made his way down the ramp. A trailing section of his long tunic was missing, and his helmet had an alarming scratch across the visor and over the top. Hux wondered what could have gotten close enough to Kylo Ren to do that.

Hux’s presence made Ren stop short at the bottom of the ramp. Hux didn’t generally greet Ren this way when they met, but there was no point in pretending that Hux hadn’t been eager to see him this time. Ren would find out soon enough.

“Excellent,” Ren replied shortly through the speaker of his helmet, obviously still insisting on his Public Kylo Ren nonsense. “We have much to discuss. Have you booked an office?”

Hux wasn’t sure if Ren wanted to fuck in an office, or just thought it was something he should say in front of the pilots and technicians milling around the hangar, gawking and trying to guess which war Ren had just won singlehandedly. Hux always found Ren’s posturing tiresome. That Ren wanted to have sex was certainly true - Hux could feel Ren’s unique type of regard climbing all over his body, Ren’s Force always making his interest well-known.

Whatever the case, Hux did have access to a private office. Brendol happened to be away, so Hux led Ren back to the rooms he shared with his father, into the general’s office at the entrance to the suite. 

“Well?” Hux prompted as he locked the main entrance and enacted a Do Not Disturb order as Ren’s helmeted head swiveled around the plain, Imperial-era office. They’d never lingered here before, though Ren had seen it plenty of times as they passed through into Hux’s quarters.

Apparently satisfied that Brendol wasn’t lurking in a corner, Ren removed his damaged helmet with a hiss of air and tossed it carelessly aside. Hux watched with distaste as it hit the floor with a solid _thunk_ , then glanced back to Ren. His face beneath the helmet looked even worse than the rest of him - pale skin, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, three days worth of dark beard, dark hair hanging lank and greasy, and a mysterious yellowing bruise on the left side of his face. His full lips were chapped and peeling.

Still, despite the obvious signs of fatigue, his features were animated, and he looked extremely pleased to see Hux. His eyes were lit with the kind of enthusiasm that meant the evening would go exactly as Hux wished. 

“I brought them. I finished them.”

“Took you long enough,” Hux replied, just for the pleasure of watching annoyance ripple across Ren’s features.

“I was _busy_ ,” Ren insisted petulantly as he removed a black pouch on his belt. Holding it in one gloved hand, he paused, glancing up at Hux, and a positively evil smirk crossed his lips.

“How badly do you want this?”

Hux rolled his eyes, resigning himself to a short fight before they got down to business. “Is this the part where you tell me I have to blow you first?” Hux gestured. “Open your pants, let’s get this over with.”

Unperturbed by Hux’s response, Ren removed a saber hilt from the pouch, different than the one he usually carried, and tapped his chin with the blunt end of the hilt. Hux suspected that it was his, but he also very much wanted to see Ren’s. Ren's saber would be the one that Ren used in battle, and Hux had always enjoyed the sight of him with it.

The metal rasped against the beard on Ren’s face as he tapped it against his skin. “You're going to suck my cock anyway. Let me sleep in your bed while I’m staying here.”

Hux had been planning to do that too, as he liked sharing a bed with Ren. He enjoyed imagining what Ren would do if someone tried to ambush him while he slept, as they used to do when he was a cadet. But Hux understood what Ren meant - he wanted to sleep wrapped around Hux like a suffocating blanket, which Hux had repeatedly forbidden.

But it was a small price to pay for what Hux wanted. “Fine,” he agreed, feigning more annoyance than he felt so that Ren wouldn’t ask for something more foolish, like a love declaration. “Now will you show me what you’ve done?”

Hux took a step closer, and Ren handed him the hilt, still smiling. Hux turned it over in his gloved hands, examining every detail. It looked much like he’d expected, if a bit plainer than the one Ren had been using. Its cylindrical body was longer, and it was completely smooth, unornamented save for the recessed activation switch. The switch, base and a band around the top were made of reddish chromed brass, the rest of the body silver. Every part of it had been polished to a smooth shine.

It was one of the most beautiful weapons Hux had ever seen.

“Very nice,” he murmured, running his thumb around the trim and looking up into Ren’s pleased expression. “I mean it. It’s exceptional.”

“It suits you.”

Hux ignored that, turning away slightly to activate the blade. It emerged from the hilt a dark violet color, nearly black. It was smooth and silent, even more than Ren’s old saber had been. The muted light would be the only giveaway if Hux needed to use it behind someone.

It was also unexpectedly heavy. Hux dropped the hilt in surprise when it suddenly became far heavier, and it deactivated before it hit the floor of his father’s office.

“Curious.” Hux picked it back up, then looked inquisitively at Ren. “Yours isn’t this heavy, is it?”

“No.” Ren frowned, looking more distracted and tired. “They aren’t supposed to weigh anything. That was one of the reasons making these took so long. I rebuilt yours several times, then had to do research about why it did that. As far as I know, it’s one of the individual characteristics the blades can have.” Ren shrugged. “Yours is just heavy.”

“It’s a plasma beam. It’s impossible that it would weigh anything, let alone after I activate it,” Hux said defensively, holding it with both hands and bracing himself to activate it again. The blade emerged from the hilt, as smooth and silent and deep violet as before, and Hux was overcome with the childish urge to flip the switch on and off to watch it. Prepared for the weight this time, he managed to keep a hold on the hilt, but his arms dipped. It had to weigh over ten pounds.

“It’s not impossible. It’s just the Force.” 

Hux rolled his eyes again, but deactivated the saber and watched the blade recede and the weight disappear like magic. He held hilt in one palm, rolling it with a thumb, enjoying the feel and look of it in his gloved hand. Everything about it was better than he could have imagined. Hux was _excited_ , unusually so, but didn’t know what else to do with the feeling.

Instead, he looked back to Ren, who was smiling again, enough to show his crooked teeth. He so rarely smiled, and Hux was in the mood to smile back. “Well? You made another for yourself, didn’t you? I’d like to see it. The blade that suits you better.”

Ren still looked immensely pleased with himself as he pulled the second hilt from the cloth bag, discarding the empty pouch on the floor of the office. This hilt looked much different - exposed wiring was visible on the side of the case, and it had quillions mounted near the blade, blackened from who knew what. It was full of openings and chambers and rough spots, and certainly looked like something Kylo Ren would carry around.

Hux eyed it warily, then looked back to Ren’s wide grin. “Does it even power on?”

“Yeah. This one was a lot easier to put together. It worked right away.”

Ren pointed the hilt away from Hux and activated it in demonstration. The blade that emerged was horrible, red and sparking and flickering in the low light of the room. After a moment, the energy backfired and vented out the separated quillions. It made a terrible hissing sound, and Hux took an involuntary step back, even as he drew an appreciative breath.

“Ren,” he murmured, looking between the flickering blade and Ren’s face, grinning and lit from below in the unstable red light. Oddly, the mess _did_ suit him. It wasn’t something that Hux would have ever made himself, or chosen for Ren. But ‘frighteningly unstable and incomplete’ was, in its way, extremely suited to Ren.

Ren took a few practice swings with it, twirling it around showily, shadows dancing around the room in its flickering red light. He stepped to the side and lunged with it, nicking the side of Brendol’s desk and leaving a very obvious scorch mark. Hux didn’t mind.

“Do you like it?” Ren asked, nakedly earnest once he had finished showing off.

Hux didn’t normally give in to Ren’s bald attempts at praise, but this time, he couldn’t help it. “Yes. It’s perfect, Ren.”

Ren’s lightsaber was one of his favorite things, and Ren had not only given him his own, but had improved upon the one he carried exponentially. The idea of Ren going into battle with this absolutely insane weapon, gutting xenos and body-slamming them to some steamy jungle floor almost made Hux ask to see footage from his last mission. Truly, if Ren had been so injured in battle, what must he have done with his new lightsaber?

But saying all of that aloud was too much. “Have you used it yet?” he asked instead, hoping for more details.

“Yeah. Works great. I told you, the Jedi weapon doesn’t suit me.”

“You were right. Not like this one does.”

Ren deactivated it, and the room went dimmer, absent the pulsing red of the blade. Hux imagined briefly what it would be like to fight with their lightsabers, the feel of them clashing together, the energy from Ren’s versus the weight of Hux’s, though Hux was a rank amateur. The weight would be an issue, especially against Ren. He would need to practice, to get used to it. To learn. Perhaps Ren would teach him-

“The other part,” Ren began, and Hux shook himself from his fantasies, looking up from the hilt in his hand, confused.

“What other part? The practice?”

“Practice? No.” Ren’s brows drew together, and the line of his mouth pulled down in a way that let Hux know he was nervous. “The resurrection ritual.”

“Oh.” Hux had forgotten that, because the reality of the weapons themselves was so much better. “Your resurrection spell. You’ve already done it, haven’t you? You bound our souls together or whatever so we can bring each other back with our weapons. How should I mutilate your corpse when the time comes?”

Ren scowled. “You don’t have to believe it. Just do it, if it happens to me.” He stepped forward, more serious, but still very nervous. He licked his chapped lips and stared straight into Hux’s eyes, his own looking tired and manic and very brown in the low light of the office. “If I die, you need to recover my body. Then, you’ll need a Force-sensitive being with a still-beating heart. Open their chest and take their heart’s blood. Use that to cover my eyes and my lips. Then, make an incision on each of my palms, and cover that with the heart’s blood too. Then, place your hilt in the center of my chest,” Ren tapped a point in the middle of his broad chest, “and activate it.”

Hux huffed, vaguely disgusted. “I assume the Force-sensitive individual isn’t meant to survive?”

“Of course not. But they need to be alive when you take the blood from their body.”

“From their _heart_ ,” Hux clarified, tapping the corresponding point on Ren’s chest to watch him get annoyed. “And then I’m meant to stab your dead body with my magic plasma sword.”

Ren gaze flicked away and back, agitated, and fiddled with the hilt in his right hand. “I know you don’t believe it. But the blades are attuned to us both. They are bound to our souls. When you activate it into my chest, it will call my soul back to my body.”

“Through the convenient hole I make?”

“The blade won’t damage me.”

Hux blinked a moment, trying and failing to process that information. “And where am I supposed to find a Force-sensitive individual? Am I to use one of your Knights?”

“No,” Ren added quickly, his fidgeting suddenly stilled. “Not them.”

“Then who? Even if I knew where several lived, you actively go around the galaxy killing all of them. Do I put out an ad for someone willing to throw their life away to bring Kylo Ren back to life? Do you have an intergalactic personality cult that I’m unaware of, outside the Knights that use your name?”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I don’t know what ‘Project Goliath’ is? You have some handy.”

Hux inhaled sharply. Project Goliath, a classified designation within the Stormtrooper program, was meant to be a secret from everyone, but especially the Supreme Leader and the Knights of Ren. They tested all Trooper recruits for Force sensitivity using Imperial tests devised by the Jedi and the former Emperor. The Goliath troops were never very powerful, not like a Jedi - if they were, Ren would sense them immediately and terminate them - but their heightened awareness was extremely useful in combat situations. They tended to have better reactions, and longer lives. The designated Goliaths were spaced out strategically throughout the army. Only a handful of the highest-ranked officers in the Trooper program knew of their existence.

Ren was one of the last people who should have known they existed. That it had somehow leaked to him was troubling. But Hux brazened out the deeply disturbing revelation, knowing that questioning Ren about it would be useless.

“Troopers are expensive, Ren. Why would I waste one on some silly magic spell that won’t actually work?”

“Fine! Don’t use a Trooper.” Ren sounded amusingly petulant, but his expression was turning dangerous, and Hux knew he couldn't push him much farther before his mood turned irrevocably. “Do you even know what I do, when we aren’t together?”

“Hunt Force-sensitives for execution? Am I supposed to take up the torch after your death, in hopes of resurrecting you to cure my loneliness?”

“No. But you can follow up on whatever mission I’m working on.” Ren looked more frustrated. “You can capture whoever we’re hunting, even if I’m dead. The Knights will be able to do it with Trooper backup. Use that person in the ritual.”

Hux had been willing to go along with Ren’s religious fervor, but this was too much. “Do you truly believe that this ridiculousness will bring you back to life, if you are killed in battle?”

“It will.” Ren’s piercing brown gaze held Hux’s. Hux knew he was certain, that he believed it absolutely. About certain things in the Force, he was unnervingly fanatical. “I studied the information extensively. It will work.”

“Anyone could have made this up! Just because you found secret notes in some hidden Force vault doesn’t mean they’re true. The person who died to test it stayed dead, Ren, and couldn’t refute it.”

“The notes for the ritual were among Darth Sidious’s personal files. They are ancient, obviously passed down from master to apprentice over several centuries." He stepped forward, stretching to his full height, his voice loud. " _They are true_.”

Hux didn’t know what to say to that. Being ancient didn’t make them any more truthful. He took a different approach, something that had bothered him the first time Ren had brought this up. “So is it a common practice to bind souls to your weapon, Ren, or is that just between you and I?”

Ren had mentioned he hadn’t wanted to do it with one of the Knights of Ren. Hux suspected that the ritual was quite sentimental, and Ren confirmed his suspicion when he stepped back and turned his face away from the question, suddenly embarrassed. Hux pressed his advantage.

“I’m not even Force sensitive. How do you know I’ll be able to do this? Certainly one of the Knights of Ren would be better, or anybody else who had in interest in Force ritual?”

“You don’t need to use the Force to do it. That’s why it’s perfect for us.” Ren turned back and stepped back into Hux’s personal space, pulling on Hux’s wrist where he still held the lightsaber hilt. Hux clenched his fist protectively around it.

“Ren, it’s ridiculous! What makes you think I’m going to haul your body around, then kill someone for you?”

“You'd be willing to do it if it wasn't related to a Force ritual. Don’t act like you’ve suddenly grown morals, or a conscience,” Ren said witheringly, still staring directly into Hux’s eyes.

That was fair. “It’s not just _someone_ , it’s a person who’s Force-sensitive. That’s more difficult, and you know it.”

“Hux. This works both ways. I’d revive you, if you died.”

Hux snorted. “How likely is that to happen?”

Ren arched an eyebrow, and one of his gloved fingers stroked the bare skin between Hux's glove and sleeve. Hux was suddenly chilled. “How well do you sleep at night?”

Hux was silent, stunned that Ren would bring that up. They’d only discussed the night attacks once, and it had been several years since someone had tried to kill Hux in his sleep. Not since he’d moved into his father’s suite full-time. “That won’t happen again,” he answered quickly, rushing to fill the silence between them. “And anyway, I survived all of those.”

Ren's expression didn't change, still looking triumphant. “If I die, my knights and your Troopers will see it happen. They’ll be able to recover my body and bring it back to you. If you die, no one will see it.” Ren leaned in, close enough that Hux felt his hot breath against his lips. “That’s where my Force powers will be useful. Our souls are bound, so I can find your body if it disappears.”

The breath stuttered in Hux’s chest. He hated this, mostly because Ren was right. Ren was more likely to die, but Hux was more likely to vanish under mysterious circumstances. He thought of the officers in the training program again, who hated him for his easy posting and for being Brendol’s son. Ren would be the only person who would care, or bother looking.

He was more willing to indulge Ren, but absolutely refused to believe the ritual. If Hux had to go through with it, it would be humiliating. Ren would be dead, and he would never know, so there was no reason not to agree, other than the fact it was a difficult thing to even lie about.

But if the Force ritual was real? He thought of those training officers again, and how impossible all of Ren’s other powers were. An impulsive idea occurred to him, an easy way to test Ren’s theory. 

“How sure are you that this works?”

“Positive,” Ren said confidently, leaning back and looking more smug.

“Sure enough to bet your life on it?”

“Absolutely.”

“I see.”

Without preamble, Hux drew his pistol and shot Ren in the heart. Ren’s expression went shocked for a moment before he collapsed, his head hitting the floor with a sick _crunch_.

Unexpectedly, Hux felt Ren’s death as a sharp _snap_ in his own consciousness, as if parts of him were suddenly muted. His thoughts felt muzzy and slow, and he cursed, hunching over and dropping both his weapons to grip his head. Of course this would be the result of Ren’s magic. He pressed his eyes closed for a moment, then took several deep breaths, trying and failing to ignore the symptoms he was experiencing. He couldn't, so he knelt down and saw to Ren.

Ren was certainly dead. His expression was frozen horribly in shock. Hux had killed people before, in ways identical to Ren - suddenly, and face to face. None of the others had looked as utterly crestfallen, perhaps because they'd expected such things from Hux. Ren clearly hadn't, and had known Hux better than the rest. Hux had even described some of those deaths to Ren.

Hux closed Ren's eyes, then felt at his neck for a nonexistent pulse. He then opened Ren's tunic to get a better look at the clean, bloodless hole the blaster had left in his chest. One fatal shot was all it had taken to eliminate the mighty Kylo Ren.

The thickness in Hux’s head only got worse as the minutes passed. He set about straightening Ren from his crumpled, uncomfortable position, laying him out properly on the floor next to Brendol’s desk. All their weapons were scattered around the floor, so Hux gathered them and holstered his blaster, stowed his lightsaber in his tunic, then wrapped Ren’s dead fingers around the unfinished-looking hilt of his own weapon. Satisfied, he managed to get to his feet and collapse into his father's desk chair. His vision was growing dark around the edges, and a headache was beginning to form at his temples. Hux blinked, trying to will all of it away, but it stayed.

Quickly, he powered up his father’s desk console and scanned his code cylinders for the high-level clearance he needed. He did a quick search in the trooper records, found what he needed, and entered the command to summon HN-1101, classified designation Goliath, to his father’s office.

It was a simple matter once the trooper arrived. Hux remained at the desk to fight off his headache and conserve his strength, then ordered HN-1101 to help with Ren’s body. Hux shot him with a stun blast as he knelt next to Ren, then rose and laid him out on the floor. The next part was disgusting, and difficult to do with his head swimming, but he managed to get the kriffing specific _heart’s blood_ from the trooper with his monomolecular blade in the way Ren had described. He removed his gloves and used his bare fingers to smear it around Ren’s tired eyes, his full chapped lips, and in the bloodless incisions Hux made on his palms. For good measure, he also smeared it around the fatal blaster wound.

He blinked blearily at Ren’s body, so physically pained himself he feared he might pass out before finishing the ritual. Ren looked very dead - open tunic, blaster wound to the chest, and someone else’s blood smeared all over him. Hux was suddenly humiliated by the impulse to even try this. Ren was delusional if he thought killing someone else, then being stabbed could bring him back to life. Hux shouldn’t have shot him, as Ren's belief had been harmless by itself, but Hux's impulse control always failed around Ren.

Well. He'd already killed HN-1101, and he didn't know how to explain himself if he did pass out and someone discovered him in this situation. Stabbing Ren's dead body might make him feel better, but he'd order the droid clean-up, sleep this off, then figure out the deaths after.

“If this works, you’re mine forever,” Hux muttered aloud before positioning his lightsaber hilt in the center of Ren’s chest and activating it.

He felt the snapping sensation again, and Ren jolted awake, his expression still very shocked. He inhaled deeply and grasped Hux’s bloody hands around the hilt of the saber, nearly crushing Hux’s fingers in his grip.

Hux hadn’t expected it to work. His impulse to jump back from Ren’s body had been halted by Ren’s hands around his, so he only stared at Ren as Ren inhaled and exhaled, the blood Hux had used on his face still fresh enough that a single drop rolled from his eye down his cheek and into his unshaven scruff of beard.

Slowly, Ren’s gaze fixed on Hux, and his expression grew furious as his grip on Hux’s hands shifted.

“It worked," Hux said, trying to pull back from Ren’s hands. Ren only tightened his fingers and pushed himself up on his elbows.

“You killed me.”

“You said you’d bet your life on it!” Hux said defensively. “I was never going to believe you without seeing it for myself.”

Ren’s fury melted into despondency, and he looked away, relaxing his grip slightly and laying back down.

“I thought you at least _liked_ me.”

Hux frowned. “Is this about your hurt feelings? That I won’t accept your affections? I don’t like anyone.” He paused, and realized that he was being too honest. “You were confident about the ritual. I wanted to see it myself. And it worked." He stared into Ren’s sad face, not quite believing he’d been dead, then alive again. It was impossible.

“You could have waited until I died naturally.”

“I might not have remembered to do it, or the details of how it worked.” Hux shrugged, thankful that Ren had provided such an easy excuse. “I’ll remember it now.”

Ren didn’t respond, and the two of them sat in silence for several minutes. Ren was still holding his hands, very much alive after being very dead. They were both sitting in a puddle of blood that had seeped from HN-1101's body. Hux felt the warmth creep through the knees of his jodhpurs. He glanced over to make sure that HN-1101 had stopped breathing, then asked another question, knowing he was pushing his luck.

“What did it feel like?”

“Betrayal,” Ren snapped, releasing Hux’s hands and sitting up, holding his bloody palms to his face and glaring at Hux. “I tried to kill my uncle for doing the same thing.”

Hux sighed. “You said your ritual would work. Really, you brought that on yourself. The idea of me killing you to test this must have crossed your mind.”

Ren glanced away, which meant that Hux was right. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. What kind of person shoots their lover in the chest on a bet?”

“Me,” Hux answered easily, letting the label of _lover_ stand between them, hoping to calm Ren down. “I meant, what did it feel like, physically?”

“I don’t know.” Ren grew thoughtful. “Force users become One with the Force when they die. I assumed that would be a profound experience. But I didn’t feel anything. Just a brief pain from the blaster bolt, and then it felt like I was shocked awake.”

“That’s it?” Hux was disappointed. He had assumed there was more to dying, and made a mental note to prolong the process if necessary in the future. “When you say you felt shocked awake, what was that like?”

“Like drowning.” Ren put a hand to his chest where the lightsaber had been while looking thoughtfully at Hux, his anger momentarily forgotten. “I felt numb through my whole body for a minute. Breathing was the first thing I thought of.”

“Does it still hurt?”

Ren looked annoyed. “Where you shot me? No.” He looked down, fingering the large, blackened divot that showed the entrance wound of the blaster bolt. There was no hole penetrating his chest, and it looked as if it had healed over instantly, though completely untreated. The wound was deep and scarred. A shame. Hux loved Ren’s beautiful chest. 

Ren looked surprised by the wound, or whatever it was he was thinking as he ran his fingertips over the scar. “It doesn’t hurt where you shot me. Not even a little. And there's no burn or anything, like it healed in an instant.”

Hux debated with himself, then leaned forward, putting his own bloody hand over the blaster wound, noticing that there was no mark where his saber had pierced. He looked up into Ren's eyes, ignoring the now overly-distracting blood on his face. “If it’s worth anything to you, I am glad you did not suffer. And I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t, not really, but it would help them move past this quicker, and it didn’t cost Hux anything.

Ren looked shocked by the apology, but still annoyed. “I did suffer. I didn’t think you’d shoot me.”

“I didn’t think about it hurting you. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to test your theory, and I was impulsive.”

“What if it hadn’t worked?”

Hux blinked at him, wondering what Ren would believe, and what he wanted to hear. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.” Ren looked suspicious, and Hux continued, aware that Ren needed more convincing. “I felt it, when you died. It hurt me. I felt it… snap, and I lost a part of myself.”

This apparently intrigued Ren, and his annoyance vanished once again. “What do you mean, you lost yourself?”

“My thoughts were unclear. I wasn’t sure I was going to stay conscious long enough to complete the ritual. I was dizzy, couldn’t see straight, I developed a crushing headache. I got sick immediately. And I had a very clear sense of when you died and when you weren’t dead anymore.”

Ren considered this. “The soul binding. That must be why I didn’t become One with the Force. My soul is bound to you instead.”

Hux scowled, finding the idea vaguely distasteful. “So my thoughts were muddied because you… were somehow in my head? Completely?”

Ren brightened. “I think so, but I don’t know. Not in a way I remember, I guess. I’m glad it works, though.”

“So am I.” 

Ren looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then suddenly, Hux was on his back on the floor of his father’s office, Ren pinning his body beneath him. His arm was across Hux’s throat, and in an instant, Hux’s wrists were pinned above his head. Ren’s expression was blank, still thoughtful.

“Do you think I'm an idiot? That I believe everything you tell me?"

Hux didn't respond. He knew Ren didn't believe his lies, not usually, but he also knew that Ren liked hearing them.

Ren continued, expression blank, voice level. He shifted down, applying a slight pressure against Hux's throat with his forearm. "Maybe we should do another test. Just to make sure. How would you like that?”

Hux didn’t feel any way in particular, because there was nothing he could do about it. He sighed. “Are you trying to intimidate me? Either you’ll kill me, or you won’t. If you do, you’ll likely bring me back to life, because you are very sentimental. If it doesn’t work, I’ll never know.”

Ren’s expression remained blank as he studied Hux’s face. “You’re a monster. Did you know that?”

“Didn't you?”

“I should kill you, just so you know what it feels like.”

Hux raised his eyebrows. “That will hurt you far more than it will hurt me.” That might be true in more than one way, Hux realized, because Ren’s death had actually physically pained him. Presumably, Ren would also get a headache.

“You said you were sorry. You said you didn’t want to do it. Were you lying?”

Hux fought to keep his expression grave. He realized, with growing incredulity, that his inane promise to keep Ren as he stabbed his body and brought him back to life was something he should do. Ren was an extremely useful ally, especially with the gift he’d given both of them. And for whatever reason, he wanted Hux.

He also realized that Ren wanted to hear him lie. Ren was the mind reader, and the First Order’s last and best loyalty test. If he wanted to deceive himself, that was his problem and not Hux’s.

“Get off me. If you want to hear it, let me say it properly.”

Ren studied him a moment longer, then sat up, freeing Hux from the painful hold. Hux composed himself, managed a contrite expression, then grabbed Ren’s bloody hands in his own again, telling Ren everything that he might want to hear. “I am sorry. The saber is wonderful. Both of them, but the one you made me, I’ve never had anything like it. No one has ever made me a gift like that.” Hux paused. All of it was true, he supposed, and Ren’s expression was softening, so Hux continued. “No one else has ever cared for me as you do. The saber, and your magic. I know I set a lot of boundaries between us, but I’m fortunate to have you, Ren, and it wasn’t my intention to betray you. I swear it. I am not your uncle.”

The last comment was more truthful than the rest. Hux was worried about Ren’s regard for him turning into the single-minded hatred he reserved for his uncle, which he wasn’t sure he could survive.

Ren eyed him suspiciously for a few more moments, then laid back down on the floor of the office, apparently defeated. “Fine. That was what I wanted to hear.”

“Some of it’s true.” Hux stood, looking down at Ren, whose eyes were closed. “Are we done here?”

Ren made a sour face, then hid his expression with one of his bloody hands. “I don’t know what I expected from you. But I’m tired, Hux. My mission was hard, and I haven’t slept much since we left Ilum.”

“Dying will do that to you, I suppose.” Hux turned to regard the bloody, de-armored corpse on his floor. Ren opened his eyes, then turned his head to look at the body himself.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t waste Troopers on me.”

“Just this once. It was worth the peace of mind.” Hux smirked, satisfied with himself. He sat back down behind his father’s desk and leaned back in the large, overly comfortable chair, wrapping his bloody hands around the armrests. “We can be more reckless now. You’ve just set new limits for the both of us.”

It really was fantastic. It hadn’t occurred to Hux before, because he had believed Ren a raving fanatic. His powers continued to be impossible.

Hux stared openly at Ren, who was bloody, barechested, tired, and still vaguely annoyed as he stared at the dead body on the office floor, all after spinning some sort of immortality sorcery. Hux rarely had cause to admire someone, because most people in his life inevitably let him down. Ren could, and probably would, but there was no harm in marveling over him now.

Ren, apparently not in a self-aggrandizing mood, closed his eyes again. “If you had limits on pissing people off before, I’ve done something terrible.”

“You have.” Hux leaned forward in the chair and re-activated the desktop console, then began entering a series of commands. He gave the trooper an official designation of _failed_ , then submitted the confirmation to the system, calling for a droid to collect the remains. This wouldn’t be the first trooper corpse removed from his father’s office. He called another droid to clean up the mess he’d made of the floor.

Ren managed to haul himself up and began limping over to the ‘fresher. Hux, absorbed in the small cover-up involved in executing a Trooper, was distracted by Ren’s presumption, waving in the direction of the communal ‘fresher with a bloody hand. “By all means, make yourself at home in my rooms.”

“I’ve earned it,” Ren muttered, turning back. “What would you have done with my body, if the trooper thing didn’t work?”

Killing Ren had been impulsive, but Hux was always good at covering his own crimes. He would have claimed self-defense. That likely would have worked, given Ren’s reputation. His father would have covered for him. At the very least, Hux could count on Brendol’s distaste with the Force to vilify Kylo Ren. But that wasn’t what Ren wanted to hear.

“I told you. If it hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.” Hux held his gaze for a few significant moments, then turned back to the desktop. “I was willing to bet my own life on it.”

Ren huffed. “I don’t believe you.”

Ren shouldn’t, but probably wanted to, and would let the lie stand. Ren would appreciate that kind of fanaticism if it implied fondness from Hux. 

Ren hesitated, his back to Hux, one hand on the frame of the ‘fresher door. He spoke again, his voice muted. “I was thinking, too. Along with the soul binding. You mentioned it was like I wedded us mystically.”

Hux only vaguely recalled this. He didn’t look up from the screen. “Yes. I see that it was necessary.”

“Well. I mean. My body won’t be returned to you, if I die. Unless we’re legally married, too. Then you could put the request in my file not to destroy my corpse without your instructions.”

Hux’s hands paused, and he gave Ren his full attention. Ren was correct, and Hux didn’t begrudge him the very necessary precaution. Still. “This is a very neat trap you’ve set for me. Are you proposing?”

“Would you expect any other type of proposal?” Ren asked, his still-bloody expression growing sour again.

“And you would, after everything I’ve said and done to you? It wouldn’t change anything between us, Ren. Being married won’t make me feel any differently.”

“I know,” Ren muttered darkly. “But you’ll do it. You aren’t going to marry anyone else.”

Hux considered this. Ren was right that he wouldn’t do it for anyone else. He didn’t particularly want to be married, it was an annoying social burden.

He sighed again, leaning back in his father’s chair and closing his eyes. He remembered his father’s wife Maratelle, abandoned on Arkanis during the war. His father had never spoken of her again after they’d left. Hux barely remembered her face. He wondered if she’d been charged with war crimes by the Republic. He wondered if he would someday do the same to Ren.

“I don’t care to be anyone’s spouse, Ren.” Hux opened his eyes, then found Ren’s gaze across the room. “Do I have a say in the matter? Are you going to use your little powers to make me do it anyway?”

Ren turned to face the ‘fresher. “I don’t do that to you.”

“Who’s lying now?”

Ren turned back, looking angry again, and Hux realized he had pushed too far. “If I didn’t use Force suggestion, you wouldn’t let us do anything.”

“Well, that’s reassuring, and certainly another charming reason to bind myself to you.” Hux pressed his lips together, then remembered the promise he’d made to himself, that Ren would be his forever if he managed to do the impossible. 

At least Ren wouldn’t be proposing marriage if he planned to nurse a grudge. 

“Very well," he finally agreed. "I’ll submit the forms and make it legal. I’ll put the request in both our files, too, that our remains are to be transported intact to the other upon our deaths.” Hux, resigned, bent down over the desk console again, hands moved faster now, sure of what he was doing. Being at Brendol’s desk also reminded him how much this would annoy his father, and he liked the idea more.

He waved a hand in the air, wanting one last parting shot before he agreed. “Buy me a ring, and we’ll make it official.”

“I already gave you a lightsaber.”

Hux glanced up, pausing. “I said a _ring_. A weapon is hardly a symbol of marriage.”

Ren’s expression went darker, and Hux realized Ren was being sincere, that this was not how Ren thought this conversation would go. “Why not? Like you said, it’s not a real marriage. It won’t change anything between us. And you said you liked the lightsaber.”

“I want a ring,” Hux insisted. It was an impulse, but he pushed harder, because it annoyed Ren. “I’ll wear it under my gloves and think of you. And you’ll share quarters with me now, of course.”

This seemed to mollify Ren, and the dark look on his face was replaced by something softer. He still looked tired, but he had a way of looking at Hux that made it obvious he was smitten. He blinked a few times, then turned back and took a step into the ‘fresher suite, tucking his limp, greasy hair behind an ear with his bloody hand.

“You’ll let me live with you, too? Just like that?”

Hux liked having Ren in his bed well enough, for sleeping and other things. Ren was gone often enough that he would leave just as he overstayed his welcome. And Hux was bored. He could tolerate Ren wrapping around him as he slept.

“Of course.” Hux shrugged, his attention back on the screen.

“ _Of course_ ,” Ren mimicked. “You just killed me. And said we couldn’t be more than friends.”

Hux looked up again. Ren hadn’t turned the lights on in the ‘fresher suite, and was standing in darkness, his pale face and torn tunic just visible from the light of the office.

When Hux spoke, it was with more honesty than he intended. “No. But that’s not what you want to hear, is it?”

Scowling, Ren went into the ‘fresher and slammed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Hux does, in fact, shoot and kill Ren in the middle of a conversation. He brings Ren back to life afterwards. Ren is okay!
> 
> \- Hux also shoots and kills an anonymous stormtrooper. The stormtrooper is not okay. Hux hits him with a stun blast, then helps himself to "heart's blood," which needs to be taken for the resurrection ritual while the person is unconscious but alive. The knife Hux uses is mentioned, as is the way Hux applies the blood to Ren, but the removal procedure is handwaved because I am very squeamish.
> 
> \- Ren describes the above ritual before Hux does it, which involves applying blood to the nose, mouth, and bloodless incisions made into the hands post-mortem. The blood sticks around throughout the subsequent conversation.
> 
> \- While Hux is lying to Ren, he mentions briefly that he wouldn't allow himself to live if Ren hadn't come back. No details.
> 
> \- There's a brief, vague mention that Ren uses Force suggestion on Hux. Hux is the one making the accusation, and doesn't seem bothered by it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor content warnings in the endnotes, related to alien hate and a short discussion about past KoR relationships.

The first time it happened, it took Hux completely by surprise. An uneventful year had passed since Ren's marriage proposal. Hux mostly remembered that day for Ren's foolishness - even Hux thought it was absurd that Ren would ask his murderer to marry him. He'd completely forgotten about their postmortem arrangements.

In that year, their lives had settled into the kind of domesticity that Ren craved, but that Hux was mostly indifferent to. They shared Hux’s quarters in his father’s suite, though Ren was still away on missions more than he was present. Hux had been hopeful that he could move into a nearly-private suite with Ren, but apparently Ren was usually quartered with all the Knights of Ren on a transport. Hux and Ren together only qualified for a single-berth couple’s suite in the officer bay, with shared ‘fresher and kitchen accommodations that wasn't nearly private enough for Hux. It had been bitterly disappointing, and Hux hadn’t spoken to Ren for a week when he’d found out. The idea that Ren actually lived somewhere had never occurred to him before that moment.

Years of living in a shared cadet space, with the threat of death looming from other cadets, had given Hux a healthy fear of sleeping. One of the faults with the early programming Hux received was that he was driven to succeed over all else, at the expense of self-preservation - though Hux always argued that self-preservation came with success, because there was no point in succeeding if you weren’t alive to enjoy it. He allegedly wasn’t afraid _enough_ of confrontation or dangerous situations, which was ridiculous after all he'd endured as a test subject in the program. But he was afraid of sleeping, when his life could end without his knowing how or why. Moving into his father’s secure suite had helped immensely, though it wasn’t as if Brendol didn’t wish him dead. He’d never slept more soundly than with Ren in his bed, who would kill anyone who tried. Ren’s clinging was a small price to pay.

Their co-command of Starkiller had remained much as Hux expected. Ren wasn't involved, aside from the initial oversight of the kyber extraction. Hux had saved twice the kyber that was needed for the weapon, and had begun selling off the rest in small amounts, keeping the revenue off the books. This kept the operation funded without bothersome budget inquiries from High Command.

There was one day a week where all the relevant Starkiller groups - mining, accounting, technological development, and others - checked in and consulted on each other’s plans. Within the next six months, the mining and drilling would be far enough along to begin the experiments with the planetary shielding tech, and Hux would assume a more active command. When the shielding was operational, they could begin planetside construction in earnest. Once they had the first wave of rudimentary hangars and ground quarters completed, he could get out of his father’s program - and quarters - permanently.

Hux dutifully sent Ren the briefs from the weekly meetings, but he suspected Ren didn’t read them. They never spoke of it in person, because Hux didn’t actually care what Ren's thoughts were on Starkiller's development. Ren likely didn't have any.

Hux wore his lightsaber daily, in a concealed holster similar to what he used for his knives. He’d not yet learned to use it, as Ren was a terrible teacher and Hux was still vexed by its impossible weight. But it was his, and he enjoyed imagining what others would say if he was forced to use it.

Its true purpose, and Ren’s delusional death pact, had all but slipped his mind until Ren died. Again.

It hit Hux physically first. He was focusing on UN-4900’s improper canon technique in the SIM, annoyed, when a _snap_ that he felt throughout his body, physical but not, brought him to his knees. He fought to keep his dignity as his hands went to his head and his thoughts spun, wondering if someone had shot him with a disabling dart. His vision began swimming and pulsing black at the edges. There was also a foreign, physical sense of emptiness that almost made him sick on the floor.

Who had done this to him? He tried to recall the other occupants of the room, but he could only remember the two staff sergeants taking notes before another wave of agony wiped the thoughts from his head. When he came back to himself, he realized one of his aides, a young lieutenant, was crouching by his side, asking if he was all right.

“Yes, I-” Hux attempted to push himself from the floor, but nearly collapsed again.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Niu asked professionally, peering into Hux’s face with perfect indifference. Hux was almost proud of her.

“I’m… not sure what’s come over me,” he muttered, the admission of failure almost painful to speak aloud. But he couldn't pretend it wasn’t happening, and he couldn’t even stand.

“Do you wish for an escort back to your quarters?”

The question rang eerily through his head, repeating over and over again. He couldn’t think clearly enough to understand it. He crouched, pressing his forehead to the floor, hoping the cool of the durasteel would help.

“Call a med-droid,” he managed, aware that there was something deeply wrong with him, something that was better to fix than hide. So many had seen him fall. Two staff sergeants, his lieutenant, the two techs... others...

He was taken to medbay on a droid carrier. Once at his destination, almost half a cycle’s worth of tests could not determine what was wrong with him. He was in and out of consciousness for almost all of them, fighting the symptoms with everything he had. They didn’t go away, but at least he hadn’t been poisoned by someone else, and he hadn't let himself fall asleep for long.

At some point during the testing, he was settled into a private medical suite, where he was hooked up to all manner of observation equipment. The droids that were testing him came and went in silence. It was cold, and the lights couldn’t be powered down, but he was in too much pain to care. At one point, he received a snide comm from his father ordering him to review the footage of the training session he missed due to his weakness. As the tests wore on, the symptoms settled into a general lethargy and a splitting headache. Both were severe enough that he realized he'd be missing his next shift as well. But the pain was so intense that being murdered in his sleep would be welcome.

He eventually allowed himself to doze fitfully, unsure how much time had passed. Analgesics, oblivion, and the best med tech the Order possessed did nothing to aid his pain.

Eventually, he woke up with Ren standing next to his bed, one arm twisted the wrong direction, glaring at him.

Hux squinted. “Are you here, or am I hallucinating?”

Ren shook his head, remaining silent.

“Fine,” Hux sighed, closing his eyes again. He could still feel Ren staring, his Force prickling at him. “You must be real, I can feel your irritating magic through my headache.”

But he realized the headache had receded to a dull ache in the back of his head. Bearable. Hux opened his eyes again, studying Ren’s arm.

“What happened to you?”

Ren gripped his arm protectively, his scowl deepening. Hux struggled to focus on him, but he looked much the worse for wear. His hair and clothing were a wreck, though he didn’t smell as bad as he usually did after a mission. He didn’t even smell like blood, which was unusual. Hux couldn’t make out his expression, or if he’d shaved, or if he’d been injured other than his arm. Knowing Ren, he'd been shot and grazed a few times, nothing serious.

“Use your words. Did you rush from some battle to be at my bedside?” It seemed like something sentimental that Ren would do. Hux made a weak dismissive gesture, finding that moving wasn’t quite as excruciating as it had been. “Get your arm fixed and come back. I’m feeling better, and they aren't letting me leave.”

Ren shook his head, his good arm dropping back to his side.

It was unlike Ren to remain silent, when he could speak and antagonize Hux. Hux sat up, more alert. Something about the lighting in the chamber was still making it hard to see Ren properly - or perhaps it was the headache.

“What’s wrong? Why are you here? Did they make you come to see me? Am I dying?”

Ren’s expression shifted from anger to sadness. He reached over and cradled his bad arm against his chest again, then shook his head.

“Then what? You missed me, and rushed here with an untreated injury to rub my illness in my face?”

Ren didn’t respond.

“Fuck’s sake,” Hux muttered, laying back down and pulling his sheets up again, determined to ignore Ren. “Come back when you’re being sensible.”

A wave of sadness and anger washed over him, almost certainly Ren’s doing. One of Ren’s pettier uses of the Force was to share his emotions with Hux when he was being an infant. Hux cracked an eye and glared, but Ren’s expression remained terribly sad, moreso than Hux had ever seen him. Hux decided to let Ren be miserable, and that it was easier to fall asleep with Ren in the room. 

He slept soundly, still unaware of the passage of time, and was only woken later by a persistent alert chime. Blinking, it took him a moment to remember why he was in a strange place - the cold and overly-bright hospital suite brought everything back quickly. But his thoughts were clearer than they had been, and even at the edge of sleep, he realized he felt much better. The strange alert chime continued, a loud but low warbling. He sat up and glanced around, wondering if it was a med-droid making the noise to discharge him from the suite. But the small room was empty save for Ren, who was standing morosely at the foot of his bed, scowling, filthy, and still holding his twisted arm. Hux could now see his pallor was an unhealthy color, and that he indeed hadn’t shaved. His brown eyes pinned Hux, and seemed to imply that it was somehow his fault.

“What are you still doing here? And what’s making that sound?” He groped for his datapad, trying to determine if he was being summoned. He found it, and squinted into the bright screen. The alert was indeed coming from his datapad, but the notification made no sense.

_First Order Bereavement Notification - BEN HUX Has Died_

“Who is-” Hux cut himself off suddenly, his gaze darting to Ren at the foot of the bed.

When Hux had filed for marriage, Ren’s personnel record had been sealed under the highest security access Hux had ever seen. Not even Brendol’s code cylinders had unlocked it. Ren had needed to authorize Hux for marriage, which had been insulting. Once Ren had opened everything, Hux had finished the forms himself, and had been surprised by a prompt near the end that offered to change their names, presumably for the couples that combined their last names. He'd nearly bypassed the prompt, horrified by the idea of calling himself _Hux-Ren_. But he had been surprised to learn that Ren’s name was actually a title, and his legal name in the system had been just one name - Ben. Instead of asking, Hux had changed Ren’s legal name to Ben Hux, then sealed the record again and forgotten it completely.

Rather than explaining that to Ren, Hux opened the notification to find that Ben Hux had been killed in action, and that Hux was off-duty effective immediately, officially on bereavement leave due to the death of his spouse.

His brow creased in confusion, and he looked back up to Ren. “The system thinks you’re dead. Did you desert? Why are you here?”

Ren shook his head slowly, still silent. Hux realized uneasily that Ren hadn't spoken since his arrival. 

“Well, check in! You must have left in a hurry. I don’t know what you sensed in the Force, but I’m fine. You’re not dead, and neither am I, and there’s been some sort of miscommunication.”  
  
Ren still said nothing to that, his expression turning sad again. 

“Of course. You’ve forgotten how to communicate at all. I understand.” Frustrated by the bureaucratic mistake and Ren’s continued refusal to talk to him, Hux scrolled through the details of Ren’s supposed death. It looked authentic enough, identifying that his husband, legal name Ben Hux, had died during a messy suppression campaign on Selodon. Cause of death had been an aerial bombardment, followed by massive trauma caused by fleeing soldiers in the area.

Hux eyed Ren again, taking in his muddy robes, his twisted arm, the way his hair and clothing were, perhaps, singed. He was also standing crookedly. Hux could stand and take a closer look, but suddenly didn’t want to. Of course Ren would survive something ostentatious just to rush to Hux’s bedside. 

“Selodon? You’d been complaining about it, I recall.” If Ren was away too long, he commed, hoping to watch Hux masturbate with one of the toys Ren thoughtfully brought back from his trips. Usually, Hux indulged him, always interested in Ren’s next gift. Ren had complained bitterly about the Selodon mission on his last comm, and it had killed Hux’s enthusiasm for the call.

That had been two days before Hux’s illness. If Hux recalled correctly, it was at least four day’s travel from the planet to the _Absolution_. “How did you get here so fast?” he asked, even more uneasy now.

Ren didn’t respond, and Hux didn’t know how to take his silence. Instead of figuring out the vexing riddle of Ren’s survival from apparent death, he commed a physician to his chamber and waited in silence, glaring at Ren and purposely ignoring his other comms from Brendol. 

A medtech appeared several minutes later, completely disregarding Ren as she made her way to Hux’s bedside.

“How are you feeling today, Major?” the woman asked brusquely, scrolling through a datapad as she crossed the room. She looked at Hux through rimmed spectacles that were obviously an affectation. Hux wondered about the lax dress code in medical. “Your vitals have stabilized, and you haven’t used painkillers in the last few hours.”

“Better,” Hux replied, matching her brusque tone. “I’m still experiencing symptoms, though I believe I can return to work. Have you found the cause?”

The tech looked him over critically. “No. Nothing was physically wrong with you. Every test came back clear, though the symptoms did register as quite severe.”

Hux raised his brows, then looked to Ren, who was still staring at him. “Splendid. Then I can add that to my list of issues. My husband was also reported as KIA, when in fact, he’s standing right here, refusing to speak to me or correct the problem himself. I’ll need to resolve that before I’m allowed back on shift.”

A flicker of emotion passed over the tech’s features, and she lowered her datapad. “Did your husband come to visit earlier, Major?”

“Earlier? He’s right there, being sullen.”

Hux gestured, and realized with a sinking feeling what was happening. The tech turned slowly to where Ren was standing at the foot of the bed, then back to Hux.

“I believe you are still experiencing symptoms, Major,” she said, her voice gentler. “Perhaps you should stay here. I’ll review your husband’s… situation. And I’ll send a different tech for you later.”

Hux all but ignored her, crawling across the bed and reaching to grab Ren’s tunic. His hand passed through him, and Ren’s expression went amused, finally nodding.

Hux wished he could feel some way about this rather extraordinary situation. The man he was married to had died - brutally, if the information was correct - and was standing in front of him as a ghost. Hux wondered if he should be panicked, or afraid. He wasn't. He was astonished at Ren's cleverness. He'd done something impossible again.

“Hells,” Hux muttered under his breath, sitting back on his legs and burying his face in his hands, resigned. “Fine. He’s not dead, he’s just… a witch. He warned me this would happen. His body is being shipped to the _Absolution_ -” he cracked his fingers and looked at Ren, who nodded. “And he’s left instructions on how to treat his… spiritual ailments.”

The med tech was silent for several moments, and Hux finally took his hands away from his face. She was staring at him. “Armitage,” she began, even more gently, leaning forward, and Hux hated her. “I’m afraid I’ll have to send for the specialist, whether you like it or not. They’ll talk to you about your husband.”

“My husband is Kylo Ren,” Hux answered sharply, pushing himself to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs to the floor. He hated the indignity of the gown he was wearing, which made him look weak and meant he couldn’t leave the room before sending for a proper uniform. “And I assure you, if he is comatose a moment longer than necessary, I will have your job along with everyone involved.”

Another ripple of emotion passed over the med tech’s face, too brief for Hux to interpret. She leaned away. “The death certificates are registered by droids. They don’t make mistakes. Even Kylo Ren can be killed. He isn’t immortal.”

“He is as long as I’m alive,” Hux spat, low enough that the tech wouldn’t hear him, his mind shifting to what exactly he needed to do when Ren’s body arrived.

Ah, right. He needed to sacrifice a Force-sensitive person. Perfect. He’d just have to pull one from his pocket, then.

“Armitage, I can see that you loved your husband very much,” the tech began again, her voice going softer. “But I think you’ve had a shock, and need to rest.”

Hux’s headache was coming back, and it had nothing to do with whatever Force curse Ren had put on him, which he now realized were the root of his symptoms. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fingertips into his forehead. “Fine. Let me rest.” He looked up at her again, glaring. “Do not send for a grief counselor.”

“Good. We can wait on the counselor, if you wish. I’ll check on you later, and we’ll see how you feel.”

Hux situated himself back beneath the sheets, closing his eyes and waiting for the tech to leave. After several long moments spent wondering what exactly the tech was _doing_ , he heard her soft steps cross the room and the door sliding open and closed. When he was sure that he was alone, he turned to glared at the ghost of Kylo Ren.

“You enormous wretch. Am I the only one who can see you?”

Ren nodded gravely.

“Why wouldn’t you warn me about this?”

Ren said nothing, staring at Hux. Hux rolled his eyes.

“You can’t talk, can you? You can only answer yes and no questions.”

Ren nodded.

“You are dead, then?”

Ren nodded, looking more angry this time. Hux wanted to rant about how inconvenient it was for Ren to die while Hux was in the middle of something, but that could wait until Ren was alive again.

“And your body is being transported to the _Absolution_ , as per the instructions in our files?”

Ren nodded, and Hux grabbed his datapad and verified the details. Ren’s body had just left the Selo system, and would be four days enroute.

“Four days of you staring at me like a lost soul, then? Punishing me for my past crimes?”

Ren nodded.

“My crimes are severe, and your mute ghost isn’t much of a punishment. Though you are annoying.” Hux propped his chin in his hand, considering Ren. “This didn’t happen when we tested your theory last year. With your ghost haunting me, I suppose I won't forget to revive you.”

Ren looked furious, his hands clenching at his side, taking several steps into the bed that should have been physically impossible. He floated somewhere above Hux’s thighs. A joke came to Hux unbidden, something about that being Hux’s favorite position, but he let it go.

Staring into Ren’s angry expression, it occurred to Hux that he could leave Ren dead for as long as he wished. He didn’t need to revive him immediately, and in fact, it might be an incentive for Ren to be more careful with his life in the future. Ren was good in bed, but he didn't have an impact on Hux’s life in any way that mattered. Except for now, where his death had been massively disruptive.

As Hux tilted his head and contemplated a delayed resurrection, Ren’s expression went tight with rage, and he began to make the gestures he used to direct the Force, or whatever happened when he waved his hands and people died. He was obviously following Hux’s train of thought, if not reading his mind outright. It made Hux smirk.

“Don’t worry,” Hux waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve arranged this quite neatly, haven’t you? I don’t need your sullen specter haunting me for the rest of my life. And you’re my life insurance, after all. I fully expect you to return the favor. Though, this looks like a chore that will mostly burden me.”

Ren wasn't reassured, his mouth forming silent protests that seemed to go on at length. Hux watched, feigning fascination, as Ren leaned forward and his hands passed through Hux’s chest. 

Mocking Ren’s ghost backfired horribly when his hands managed to trigger some sort of deep, full-body chill in Hux that wiped the smirk off his face as he began shivering violently.

He was dimly aware of some medical alarm going off as Ren mouthed, very clearly, _I love you_.

“Stop,” Hux managed weakly, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t see Ren’s expression. “I shouldn’t have said that.” _Or thought it_ , he added silently, wondering if Ren was still spying. Frankly, if he was looking, it served him right, and Hux didn’t deserve to be punished like this. Saying the right words always appeased Ren’s anger, though. “You prefer a more affectionate husband.” 

The cold abruptly withdrew, but Hux kept his eyes closed, his arms reflexively crossing over his chest. He took several deep breaths, debating how to continue. He knew Ren would prefer the lies. But Ren was dead, and the act was tedious.

He sat up, propping himself on his elbows to watch Ren’s expression. “Must you force me to lie to your ghost? If you’re dead, and still reading my thoughts, what is the point in continuing this pretense?” Hux put up a hand when Ren lunged for his chest again, and incredibly, Ren stopped, expression still tight and murderous. He was still standing in an impossible position in the middle of the bed, his waist and legs disappearing somewhere below Hux’s thighs.

“You would have tied us together even if I hadn't wanted it. I know that about you, just as you know I will never love you back.” Hux was angry, which was unusual - he generally didn’t bother. “I do not have affection in me. It was taken from me, and never given back in return.” It sounded silly out loud. Hux lowered his hand, pausing for a moment to stare into Ren’s expression, his temper suddenly gone, fatigue and headache taking its place. “I don’t want it now. But I do want a partner. Life is easier when there is one person to trust. You love me, so I trust you not to kill me, and to stop others from harming me. I can even trust you to bring me back to life, and to always come back to me, for whatever it is that you want from me. Isn’t that enough?”

Ultimately, Hux decided he preferred Ren’s idealized artifice to whatever had just left his mouth. It wouldn’t have, had Ren not actively been killing him. But maybe Ren needed to hear it, and Hux needed to say it. He laid back down on the mattress and closed his eyes, waiting to see if Ren’s silent ghost would attack him again.

Instead, he heard the door slide open and footsteps enter his room, along with the small sounds of an attendant droid. Vaguely, he remembered Ren’s attack had triggered some sort of alarm, so he supposed they were checking to see if Hux had died. He smirked. If Ren’s ghost had killed him, all of Ren’s impossible magic would be for nothing.

“You’re mine forever, you know,” he murmured aloud, just for Ren. It was what he’d decided when Ren’s resurrection magic had actually worked, and the realization had always been comfortable. He’d not yet regretted joining his life to Ren’s. 

Perhaps one day Ren would decide to leave Hux, for whatever reasons Ren did anything. Hux had thought of this before, and didn't know what he’d do. He couldn’t imagine Ren - clingly, affectionate, dogging Hux’s steps and begging for attention through comms - leaving him for any reason. Hux would only have to wait for him to come back.

He opened his eyes and found a new medtech hovering near his bed, frowning at the various monitors that were still evaluating Hux’s condition. He turned to Ren’s ghost, who was now merely unhappy, with his twisted arm and burned clothing and sad expression.

“You can’t live without me,” Hux said, louder this time, which earned him a speculative glance from the tech. 

His gaze didn’t leave Ren’s, even as he felt the prick of an injection in his arm. He lost consciousness staring at Ren, who only looked resigned.

* * *

By the time the body of Kylo Ren appeared on the _Absolution_ , Hux had been released (although reluctantly, and likely compassionately) from the med bay, and was not authorized to return to work, so he had nothing better to do than meet the transport in the bustling aft hangar. He was somewhat surprised when one of the Knights of Ren walked down the ramp with a stasis chamber, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. Ren’s body would need an escort, and Ren’s Knights could do the labor and spare the stormtroopers.

Kylo Ren’s ghost had accompanied him through everything, including all ‘fresher activities and the thorough and dehumanizing routine medical exam that was required for a release. Hux hadn’t given the exam a second thought until he saw the horrified look on Ren’s face as the droids performed a particularly painful procedure. Hux had experienced far worse treatment, and had assured Ren aloud (in front of the droids, after he was no longer a candidate for psychological reevaluation) that the rigorous protocols were far less invasive now. Ren had looked angry, but Hux thoroughly enjoyed his disgust.

Ren's ghost was now watching the helmeted Knight lead the stasis chamber across the bustling deck, not looking at all thrilled to be reunited with his body. When the Knight stopped in front of Hux and stared silently for several awkward moments through their ostentatious helmet, Hux resigned himself to a difficult ordeal, and led the small party back to his quarters.

Brendol was rather inconveniently sitting at his desk when they arrived at the entrance to the suite. He glanced up from his datapads and looked vaguely surprised when Hux entered with a large stasis chamber and a Knight of Ren.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Brendol managed after masking his reaction, in his usual disapproving tone of voice. He looked no more disapproving than usual - he looked vaguely tired, and old. He refused to have his uniform fitted again, so it cinched too tightly around his chest. Hux kept hoping for age or poor habits to catch up with Brendol, making him drop dead at his desk one day, but hope had never treated Hux well.

Hux held in a sigh. Brendol was supposed to be on the training deck, but of course he was avoiding work here again. “The Master of the Knights of Ren,” Hux said, with a flourish toward the stasis chamber. The Knight of Ren escort had not spoken since stepping off the ship, and Hux had needed to check the transport's personnel log to learn which one it was. “And Cardo Ren.”

Brendol frowned, looking from the stasis chamber to Hux. He and Brendol had never actually spoken of Hux’s marriage, and as far as Hux knew, Ren and Brendol had never been in the same room before, despite the fact they all shared living areas and facilities. Hux was certain this was due to Ren using his Force powers to avoid awkward conversation. It made Hux nearly sick with jealousy, and it left Brendol and himself in the even more awkward position of never mentioning Ren. There had been a bad moment early on when Brendol had blamed Hux, loudly and at length, for leaving the ‘fresher messy. Hux had endured it as he always had, knowing full well that both he and his father would drop dead before their military programming allowed them to leave so much as a damp towel on the floor. Hux had cheerfully pictured killing Ren as Brendol ranted about the hair all over the sonic, carefully avoiding the fact that neither father nor son had long dark hair.

Ren was a slob who didn’t care about Brendol’s aggressions, so Hux had solved the problem by hiring a droid to clean up after Ren when he was aboard ship. He’d tried to charge the droid service against Ren’s wages, but had been astonished to learn that Ren was not paid even a stormtrooper stipend by the First Order. Ren worked entirely without compensation. Hux had been impressed - Ren was more of a fanatic than he’d known.

Hux should have also known that Ren would drop dead before speaking to Brendol, and that Hux would eventually be forced to deal with the introduction. He shot a dark look to Ren’s ghost, who was standing next to Brendol, leaning in very close to his face, looking amused. He was still visibly injured and filthy, with his clearly broken arm still hanging at an unnatural angle at his side, but Ren's ghost had seemed ill-tempered since it manifested. The amusement made him look more like himself, especially when directed at something that Hux actively loathed.

“You have a husband,” Brendol said slowly, confused, as if just now remembering. “Did something happen to him?”

“Yes, he’s sick,” Hux said, grateful for the opportunity to simply pass over the marriage aspect. “I need to keep him in my quarters.” Technically, Ren - or Ben Hux - was legally quartered there as well. But Hux ignored Ren’s partial ownership even when not speaking to Brendol.

Brendol’s face twisted at the reminder a third person lived with them. His father had every right to throw Hux out because he was married, which was why Hux had avoided rubbing his father’s face in it. Hux hoped it wouldn't come up now.

“How long will that be?” Brendol asked, eyeing the stasis chamber with distaste. It was huge, and would barely fit in the bedroom.

Hux clenched his jaw. He had no idea. “I’m consulting with Cardo Ren now about the cause of his injuries. After that, I will order treatment from the medical department.”

Brendol stared at the stasis chamber, then back to Hux. “I thought he was dead.”

Hux blinked rapidly, momentarily taken aback. _Shit_. He forgot that Brendol would have received a notification about the death of his son-in-law. “There was an error. The details are what I’d like to discuss with Cardo Ren.”

“Armitage,” he said levelly, in a tone that still made Hux suppress a flinch and straighten his back.

“I’m trying to end my bereavement leave,” Hux said shortly, hoping that would be enough of an explanation for his father. “I have no intention of sitting on my hands for two weeks. If you’ll excuse me. Sir.”

Brendol narrowed his eyes, then turned back to his desk. “I don’t want people walking through here. Move him to med bay after…” Brendol glanced back up warily to Cardo Ren, then back down. “After that person leaves.”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

Hux didn’t wait for a further dismissal, and immediately led the group to his private quarters and sealed it behind them. He turned to Cardo Ren, his pulse pounding, his emotions always uneven and foreign after speaking to Brendol. 

“Take off that ridiculous mask. Is that a furnace plate?”

Cardo, surprisingly, obliged him. When the helmet came off, the face beneath belonged to a strikingly beautiful woman, her dark hair shaved close to her scalp. She had long lashes, high cheekbones, and the most beautiful eyes and lips Hux had ever seen. She was taller and broader than even Ren. She was the kind of rare person that confirmed Hux’s preference for men - if he’d had any inclination whatsoever to women, an invitation to hold him down and peg him would have fallen out of his mouth immediately.

Bitterly, he looked to Ren’s ghost where it stood waist-deep in the middle of the bed, realizing he wasn’t going to be held down and fucked anytime soon.

“Is he truly dead?” he managed to ask, his gaze sliding to the stasis chamber. There was barely enough room for Hux and Cardo in the room with the enormous apparatus pushed to the foot of the bed.

“Yes,” she said shortly, her accent strange. She wasn’t a native speaker of Basic.

When she didn’t elaborate, Hux glanced up and prompted her impatiently. “How did it happen, then?”

“The campaign was bad,” she said simply. “It was an even match, between the First Order and the Selodonians. The Master and the Knights of Ren were the only advantage. The Selodonians got desperate and executed an air strike. It killed their forces, but also many soldiers and Kylo Ren.” She leaned over to the stasis chamber, looking down at it. “I believe he was hit by the fighters directly. It was possible he lived through that, and died when he was trampled in the retreat.”

Hux glanced back over to Ren’s ghost, studying his twisted arm. “Do you see him in the room with us?”

Cardo’s brows drew together. “Inside the chamber?”

“No. Here,” Hux gestured to Ren’s ghost on the bed, feeling foolish. “I thought another Force user would see him.”

Cardo stared at the mattress, then back to Hux. “No. I do not. But the Master told us he bound your souls together.”

She didn’t explain further. Hux didn’t want to know, and changed the subject.

“Why the stasis chamber? Is the damage that severe?”

“Yes,” she answered promptly. “His body would also rot. This ship is far away from the Selo system.”

Hux decided not to think about what Ren might look like after being shot by a plasma canon, then trampled. He drew his lightsaber hilt from its concealed holster, briefly stroking his gloved fingers down its metallic length. He’d never used it for anything practical, but he still fawned over it every day when he armed himself, and turned it on when Ren wasn’t there to see. It was much like the ring he wore beneath his gloves. Having it was a relief, and a sign of status. It was a sign that someone else cared what happened to him.

He put his free hand on the stasis chamber. The top was ridged and covered with various flashing sensors. There was no viewing window, but Hux didn't care to see. “I need to kill a Force-sensitive being to bring Kylo Ren back to life. He suggested that one could be retrieved from his active mission.”

Cardo’s expression went sour. “There are few on Selodon, and they are leading the rebels. Only the Master had the ability to extract them.”

 _Fuck_. And Hux only had command of Starkiller's mining equipment. He didn't have the influence to divert resources and pull out an enemy Force user to save Snoke’s legally-dead pet.

He frowned, turning to Ren’s ghost. “If I comm Snoke, would he approve more aggressive action in the Selodon campaign?”

Ghost Ren’s expression went angry, and he shook his head, stepping forward and using his palms to gesture emphatically.

Hux was amused. “Don’t comm Snoke at all, then?”

Ren shook his head, harder this time.

He turned back to Cardo. “You’re the expert, then. You’ve been hunting them with Ren. Any suggestions?”

Cardo looked confused. “You call the Master by our group title?”

Hux had never wasted thought on this. “Should I call him Kylo? I always thought that name was stupid.” He paused, realizing suddenly that _Ben_ had probably made it up. He glanced at Ren's ghost, who looked suitably affronted. “He chose it himself, you know.”

“I was there when he chose it. I know.” Cardo’s expression hardened. “I do not think that you do.”

“Fine. You, and other people with stupid names, murder people with _Kylo_. Force-sensitive beings. Where are they, _Cardo_?”

She seemed unbothered by the sarcasm Hux had put behind her name. “Don’t you have Project Goliath for your Force-sensitive soldiers?”

Hux rolled his eyes. “That was meant to be a secret from Snoke and Ren’s special Knights.”

“It is not.”

Hux waited for her to suggest something else, but lost patience and prompted her again when she remained silent.

“I’m not using a stormtrooper for this, that’s too expensive. Do you have prisoners? Doesn’t your lot keep them for future torture, or ritual, or something?”

Cardo’s expression slid to distaste, looking to the stasis chamber. “That is blood magic. The Master is staunchly against it.”

“Not when it benefits him, apparently.” Hux grew more frustrated, wondering what it was Cardo Ren did all day. “Is there a nearby system where you could, I don’t know, go snatch someone?”

“If there was,” she huffed, “we would have eliminated them.”

This was getting far too stupid. “Look. I’m not an expert on Force users, as you allegedly are. But I’m going to need one to resurrect Ren. _Kylo_.”

“Then use a stormtrooper.”

“Did he tell you to say that?”

“Yes. He said that you wouldn’t want to, but you had before, and it would be the best option.”

Hux clenched his jaw in annoyance, looking back to the door of his quarters. He could hardly kill a stormtrooper with his father present. Brendol would immediately have him executed for treason.

“I can’t,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “Go retrieve a twi’lek from Ryloth.”

“That’s in Republic space.”

“I know where Ryloth is. I also know that the Knights of Ren frequently make use of smuggling vessels, and know how to navigate into restricted areas. I assume you can tell the difference between the kind of alien we’re looking for and the useless kind, correct?”

Cardo’s body tensed, and she stepped closer, her expression hard. Hux’s pulse quickened, but he stood his ground, even as he imagined her pinning him to the wall. Cardo appeared to use an enormous custom rifle, almost a canon, along with a blaster and a type of grenade that Hux didn't recognize. Hux wondered if they had to do with the Force. The large rifle was slung across her back, but her hand dropped to the smaller pistol holstered at her waist in a clear threat. Without a helmet, she looked like a model from a Republican luxury ad that would gladly blow his brains out and step over his corpse.

“I will not take orders from you, one who has not earned their place.”

Hux held her gaze. “And what place is that? I give orders, Cardo Ren. I have since I was a boy. I’ve earned my place doing it. Or do you mean my place, bound to Kylo Ren?” Hux cocked his head. “What would Kylo say, if he were here? He’s meant to give orders to you. I suspect he told you to follow mine.”

Behind her, Hux saw Ren’s ghost nod as Cardo Ren stepped back in defeat, muttering in a language Hux didn’t recognize. Without another word, she snapped her helmet back into place and stormed out of his quarters. Through the door, he heard Brendol shouting indistinctly at her.

Hux stared again at the stasis chamber at the foot of his bed. He debated opening it, to see what had happened to Ren. But he would have to look when he did the ritual, and he was worried about losing his nerve if Ren was terribly injured. Being hit by an aerial bombardment spoke of significant tissue damage. Though, it also spoke of Ren being enough of a threat to warrant an attack like that.

He slumped to the floor by the chamber, playing with his lightsaber hilt, gripping it with both hands as he activated it. Its dark glow washed over the room, casting strange shadows. He wondered what Ren had looked like on that field. It must have been glorious. Hux would have to see if there was holofootage of the battle.

He looked past the blade to Ren’s ghost, still staring morosely down at him from the bed. Scowling, he deactivated the saber, then withdrew his datapad, plotting the coordinates to Ryloth. It wasn’t far.

“Three days. Try to be more careful next time, _Kylo_.”

* * *

The resurrection worked just as it had the first time - Ren gasped and gripped Hux’s hands when Hux activated the lightsaber hilt into Ren's chest, his expression flying open and shocked as life returned to his body. Ren’s body had been much the worse for wear, and Hux hadn’t been certain the ritual would work, or that Ren would particularly want to live in his body if it did. There was a bad moment where Hux felt the push of Ren's Force, the telltale prickle that meant that Ren was about to lash out. Hux had never been in such close quarters when it happened, and his first instinct was to go for his monomolecular blade in self-defense. He jerked his hands, but Ren's grip tightened painfully, holding him in place. Before Hux could try harder to escape, the moment passed. The feel of Ren's Force abruptly ceased, and his grip slackened.

Hux waited for another attack, but Ren looked too ill to continue. They both sat in silence, Ren blinking, Hux waiting for him to speak first.

“I died,” Ren finally said, wonder in his tone as he looked down at their bloody hands clasped around Hux’s saber. He was breathing heavily, forcing his words out between breaths. "I was fighting, and... I was dead. And then... you fixed it."

Hux said nothing to the inane statement, using the moment of stunned silence to deactivated the lightsaber blade. He realized it had defied reality both times Hux had done the ritual - it should have pierced the floor beneath Ren's body, but hadn't. Hux was annoyed by the impossibility.

Hux huffed, then sat back and studied Ren's body while Ren continued to gape at himself and the room. Most of his disfiguring contusions had vanished in the moment of revival, including his twisted arm. Now, Ren was merely dirty, mud and blood caked, and smelled like a week-old corpse. Hux glanced around the room to confirm that Ren's sulky ghost had also vanished.

“You’ve haunted me for over eight standard cycles,” Hux stated in a wary tone, rubbing the tacky twi'lek blood between his fingers. “I was sick of it. You can menace me in person now.”

“Haunted you?” Ren looked confused, blinking blearily at Hux as he made a visible effort to slow his breathing. "I’ve been dead for eight days?”

“You were dead, but your annoying personality lived on. I’m sure it’s a relief to speak again. And I certainly appreciated your advice in relation to… this,” Hux gestured weakly to the twi’lek corpse, indicating the blood that was beginning to pool and spread to Ren's body. The ritual was still disgusting, and the metaphysical sensation of Ren coming back to life was still an unpleasant shock.

“It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” Ren muttered darkly, looking suspiciously at Hux his breathing finally evened out.

“Oh, don’t start that again. I remembered how to do it correctly when it mattered, didn’t I?”

Ren said nothing to that, clenching his eyes closed and still obviously struggling to draw breath and use his body. “You could see me while I was dead? I mean, separate from my body?”

“As if you were standing beside me the whole time, even after your body arrived on ship. I thought you were physically present, just after you'd died. Your death had wonderful side effects for me, by the way.” Hux frowned, the whole ordeal now seeming overly complicated. “I was busy, and your death made me ill for over a standard cycle.”

“What an inconvenience. To be sick for a whole day," Ren stated in a flat voice, glaring at Hux from the floor. "I was dead, Hux.”

“I got sick in front of the other officers,” Hux replied, discomfort rising at the memory, both for the incident itself and how this would sound to Ren. “It’s not something that they’ll soon forget.”

Ren turned his head and looked groggily around the room again. The stasis chamber was gone, as there wouldn’t have been enough room for even Ren’s body, let alone the twi’lek and space to work. Hux had laid Ren out when Cardo had commed about her return, but had regretted it almost as soon as he’d sent the stasis chamber away. He’d been forced to live with Ren’s badly mutilated corpse for almost twelve hours. 

“What are the other officers going to do? Murder you?” Ren pushed himself up to point at the twi’lek, then leaned back on his hands, propping himself into a sitting position. “What is that?”

“The xeno? The Force-sensitive I revived you with.”

“You used twi’lek blood?”

Hux was startled by the question, realizing that he would have been revolted in Ren’s place. “I had one of your knights get it for me. It wasn’t as if I had much choice.”

“Who took it for you?”

“Yes, yes, you told them to force me to use a stormtrooper. But I didn’t think you, a Republican, would be squeamish about twi’lek blood.”

Ren's fatigue seemed to be draining away, alert curiosity taking its place. “No, I don’t care about the twi’lek. But, who did it? I mean, did they go to Ryloth? In Republic space? That's a lot of work. You wouldn't have done it”

“I was the one that ordered her to do it.” Hux couldn’t actually pilot a ship by himself, but was still stung by the rebuke. “It was Cardo.”

“Cardo? I’m surprised she took orders from you.”

“I know how to give orders, Ren.”

“If you made Cardo go to Ryloth and kidnap someone, I guess you do.”

“She’s waiting for you in the hangar, by the way.” Hux glanced down, then back up. “Are all your knights so…”

“So what?”

Hux sensed danger, and retreated abruptly from the question, glancing away. “Nevermind. I don’t know if other knights have joined her, perhaps your whole clan is there to greet you."

“Wait,” Ren insisted, leaning forward. “What did you think of Cardo? Are all my knights...” 

Hux remained stubbornly silent. But to his utter horror, Ren put out a hand, and he felt the telltale prickle of the Force that meant Ren was rummaging through his thoughts. Hux closed his eyes and braced himself.

Ren, predictably, burst out laughing. “Are all the Knights of Ren hot?” Hux opened his eyes to scowl at him. Ren was still laughing helplessly. He looked deranged, unspeakably filthy, with his clothing in rags. His eyelashes were spiked with the drying twi'lek blood, and his hair was crusted to his skull. And yet, he also looked very pleased, which happened rarely.

“I didn’t realize you had a type.”

Hux was baffled as to how Ren’s resurrection could be so humiliating for him. “I have no interest in women. She is quite striking, though.”

“She’s pretty tall and muscular, too. I heard you like that.”

“What I enjoy in our bed is hardly relevant.”

“That’s too bad.” Ren straightened, looking wistful for a moment. “If you wanted it, she might be up for a night of fun.”

“ _Liked_ her?” Hux goggled at him. “A night of fun? As in, all three of us? You’re telling me _you_ like her?”

“Oh yeah. I had a giant crush on her when I joined with the Ren. I had…” Ren paused, then looked uncharacteristically embarrassed. “You know. Before I was Master, they made me feel welcome.”

“What? Are you telling me you fucked her?” Hux said, disbelieving, unable to picture Ren with a woman. Especially Cardo. He liked Hux’s body and his temper too much. Didn’t he?

“No, I didn't fuck her. That only goes one way.”

“ _She_ fucked _you_? And you liked it?”

“From Cardo, yeah. Why? Are you jealous?”

Hux opened his mouth, then closed it. He was, he realized. A little. It was terrible, the feeling of it clenching in his gut. It wasn’t something he’d felt before. “And you said the Knights made you feel welcome? How many have you had sex with?”

“Well, four of them. But I killed Ren, and Ukuon died a couple years back. So just Cardo and Kuruk, that you'd know.” Ren leaned forward and grabbed Hux’s bloody hands with his own, his eyes and expression gaining the familiar look of Ren's fanaticism, not to be deterred. “But that only lasted until I killed Ren. I didn’t love them like I do you.”

“R-” Calling him Ren seemed silly after he’d used the name for a former lover. “Kylo, you just explained that your previous lovers left you after you began to murder them. And you smell like a corpse, I hardly want a love confession from you now.”

“Yes, you do.” Ren grinned, then leaned back on one hand and closed his eyes, pushing his stiff hair behind one large ear. Apparently, being brought back to life put Ren in an especially good mood. His face was still streaked with offal from both Ren and an alien. Hux could see the left side of his face better now, which had been swollen, his eye badly damaged. Now, it was only dirty.

It occurred to Hux, belatedly, that Ren had been confused by the ghost aspect of his existence. “You sound as if you remember nothing from the previous week.”

“I was dead.” Ren cracked his eyes, regarding Hux. “There wasn’t anything to remember.”

“You watched me sleep. You watched me shit. Very closely.”

“Oh, right. You said you got sick, and my presence lingered.” Ren looked more alert. “But I don’t remember that. Did that happen last time?”

“No, but you were only dead for a few minutes. This time, when you died, I-” Hux exhaled, annoyed. “I passed out in the middle of a training exercise, and spent most of a cycle in medical, unconscious. When I woke up, you were standing next to me, and you didn’t leave my side until I stabbed you with my lightsaber.”

“Hmm.” Ren closed his eyes again, laying back down on the floor and pillowing his head on his arm. “No. I don’t remember that.”

“So ghosts aren’t a common thing among dead Force users?”

“Actually, they are. They aren't really ghosts." Ren frowned at him, and Hux held his tongue to avoid the kind of metaphysical argument that Ren could make uniquely tedious. "It's them, as a person, their essence in the Force. Some Force users can speak and retain their memories and sense of self after death, when the awareness of most beings returns to the Force. But I was told there was a whole ritual involved with..." Ren gestured impatiently, obviously annoyed about explaining this to Hux, "opening yourself up to their message." His voice had also gone derisive, making it clear that Ren was emphatically not interested in the specifics. "But maybe that’s part of us having our souls bound together. We can’t become One with the Force while the other one lives, and we're open enough to each other to communicate after death.”

“Splendid. I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life, whether I revive you or not.”

Ren looked sullen at this, and Hux was nearly offended. He’d told Ren some ridiculous things about their relationship this past week, just after Ren’s ghost had tried to kill him. But he realized belatedly that Ren wouldn’t remember, which was for the best.

Instead of bringing any of that up, Hux changed the subject. “Do you remember how you died?”

“Yeah.” Ren’s mood plummeted again. “It's the last thing I remember before this, so I was confused when I woke up. The Selodon war was bad. They just kept coming. I told you they had bottomless soldiers to throw at us, right?” Hux remembered, and had mocked Ren at the time. It wasn’t as if they were _infinite_ , and a good strategist would solve that problem. But he forced himself to be silent, and Ren continued. “We would go in and wipe them out, but there would be more the next day, and we never really gained territory. I kept trying to get the First Order to send more equipment, but they wouldn’t. And then the Selodonians started the aerial bombardments. I wasn’t expecting it, and it hadn’t come up as one of their possible strategies. I thought they were our ships, because I’ve only ever seen the First Order sacrifice their own soldiers. But they started firing on our side specifically.” Ren closed his eyes. “Then I sensed something and looked up, and realized one of the canons was targeting me. I thought I could ward it off with the Force, but it’s not like I can fight three guys and a starfighter at the same time.”

“Good to know your limits,” Hux murmured, thinking of the trampling Ren's body had endured after being shot. “Do you know what got you?”

Ren made a face. “I was shot with a plasma canon. Yes, I know what got me. It hit pretty hard, so I guess it’s good that I’m not some sort of brainless undead thing now.”

“You smell like it.” Hux stood, unwilling to spend another moment on a bloody floor between two corpses. He bent over and retrieved his messy monomolecular blade from beside the twi’lek. “But. Your body experienced considerable trauma. You were shot in the back by a plasma cannon, then trampled to a pulp by the fleeing army. You aren’t… in pain? Are you injured at all?”

“Well, I was dead,” Ren reasoned. He sat up again, squeezing his eyes shut, then opening them again. “I have a headache, and I’m dizzy, but that’s going away. I felt really sick when I first woke up, but that cleared up fast. Otherwise…” He flexed his hands experimentally, swung his arms. Then he stood, bracing himself against the wall and closing his eyes again.

“No. No pain.”

Hux frowned at the bloody handprints on the wall, then studied the new scar on Ren’s back. It had been little more than raw meat and bone before the resurrection - human bodies weren’t meant to take a plasma canon shot. It had been a relief to lay Ren out on his back, hiding the damage. Now it was healed over, and Hux could see the declivities of spine and muscle through Ren’s atomized tunic. It looked as if he’d had the skin flayed from his back six months ago.

“The Force is a wonderous thing.” He pushed Ren toward the ‘fresher. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up. Brendol's in, unfortunately. He’s certain you’re dead. I'll enjoy proving him wrong, at least.” His father had returned to his office shortly after Cardo had delivered the unconscious twi’lek, but thankfully, the resurrection ritual was mostly silent.

Ren made a face. “He’ll figure it out some other way. I’m not talking to him.”

“You’ll have to,” Hux replied evenly, pushing him along. “He’s right outside. You’ll have to use words instead of hair clogs to announce your presence.”

Hux opened the door to find his father studiously bent over his desk. Belatedly, it occurred to him that both he and Ren looked frightful. Hux had killed someone with his bare hands, and Ren had been killed on a battlefield. Aside from being filthy, what was left of Ren's clothing was hanging off his body in tatters. Hux stared at Brendol and waited for the reaction, but Ren walked carelessly through the room, palm out toward Brendol. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Did you think it was an accident I never talk to him?”

Annoyed, Hux followed Ren into the ‘fresher. “Fine. I’ll deal with it later. Strip.”

Ren stepped back, frowning. “I can clean myself.”

“No, you can’t. You’re fouler than anyone else alive, and I will see to it myself.”

Ren’s expression softened. “You want to bathe me.”

Hux sighed. _Want_ was a strong word, but yes, Hux supposed he did. He would never admit it aloud. Ren being a ghost for a week, his corpse in a stasis chamber at the foot of their bed, had been… upsetting. The longer it went on, the less likely it seemed that he’d come back. The eventual sight of his physical remains had made Hux almost certain, and a little regretful. What they had was nice, and Hux was increasingly comfortable sharing himself with Ren. He'd never bother getting to know anyone else, nor would anyone ever bother with him.

But yet again, Kylo Ren had surprised him. That he had come back unharmed and with his annoying personality intact was yet another impossible thing.

As Hux watched Ren pull the remains of his clothing off and studied his body, he mused on the miracle aloud. "You were very dead. It wasn't a pistol shot this time, you were killed with a weapon meant to stop a starfighter. Your body was destroyed. And yet, here you stand, whole and alive."

"And?" Ren was distracted, jerking and tearing the rest of his clothing off. "The ritual works. I told you that."

"Yes, it works. But I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it once before," Hux conceded. "I don't think I would have even tried. The condition your corpse was in was vile. Yet, you seem unsurprised to be alive and healed, even though you know fully well that you were nearly disintegrated."

Ren paused, fumbling with the single remaining button on his suspenders. Hux wondered why he bothered. “No, I'm not surprised. I felt it when we were bound together. I knew it would work."

"Such faith," Hux murmured, "for something that doesn't exist."

"It does. Obviously."

Hux snorted, leaning against the sink. "It's not obvious. Your faith in the intangible Force is almost nonsense, Ren, and I think you know that. You know how it looks to me, and to others. And yet it rewards you for your devotion with the ability to work miracles. It would do no such thing for me."

Ren smirked, then continued pushing his pants down. His skin was comically pale under the intact sections of clothing, in contrast to the rest of the filth on his body. “It did react to you, though. You're the one that brought me back to life. You don't even believe in it." He paused, his expression darkening, and he turned away, stepping into the ridiculous bathtub that Brendol kept in the suite. “But I told you before, it doesn't matter if you believe in it or not, it's still real. I've trained my whole life to know it, and to use it. I still do." He turned, regarding Hux, the familiar fanatical cast to his features. "That's what my missions are for. To discover these rituals, to discover new ways to use the Force. The relics, the religious sites across the galaxy, the old records, even the imperfect ways that other users commune. I know all of it. I know its power, and how to wield it. So I'm not surprised to be alive."

Hux raised his brows, then stripped off his tunic, depositing the bloody mess into the cleaning unit and sliding his wrist holster off, stripping himself down to just his undershirt and johdpurs. He glanced at the bloody footprints on the floor, then pulled his boots off and arranged them next to the wall. “What would I do with your blind faith, Kylo Ren?”

Ren huffed, turning away from him, but still standing naked in the sonic stall. Hux turned on the sonic, unwilling to fill the tub first and let Ren wallow in the waste. He left his hands in the spray, watching the blood vanish from his skin, running away from the unadorned durasteel band that Ren had given him when Hux had asked for a wedding ring. He always wore it under his gloves, mostly to spite Ren. He'd forgotten to take it off when he'd performed the ritual. He liked seeing it though, and he liked the way it looked when he touched Ren.

"My faith isn't blind. I feel the Force every moment of every day." Ren watched Hux's hands, and when Hux withdrew them, he stepped under the sonic spray himself, closing his eyes. "If I didn't believe, why else would I do what I do?"

Hux knelt next to the tub, clenching his jaw in annoyance. He was trying to explain to Ren how gifted and privileged he was, but Ren was missing the point. "You would do it because you don't have a choice. The rest of us never have."

"No choice?" Hux was almost furious when Ren opened his eyes, smirking in amusement again. "You're hung up on my belief in the Force. You didn't say anything about how I wasn't surprised that you revived me, though. You chose to do that, Hux."

Hux was momentarily taken aback by this, anger forgotten. "Hardly. You tied yourself to me for the rest of my life. It was either bring you back, or deal with your ghost."

"Maybe." Ren made a perfunctory effort to rub at his hair, but it wasn't nearly enough to dislodge all the debris tangled there. "But I think you have your own kind of faith. Once you decide to do something, you do it. I thought you would only sleep with me two or three times, then reject me. But when you didn't, I knew you'd decided that I was allowed to stay with you. And that you were certain. You'd never change your mind. You'd never betray me." He turned, pinning Hux with his gaze, now looking more like himself with most of the grime washed from his face. His eyelashes were stuck together, and he pressed his lips before he spoke again. "That's what I love most about you. That you're certain. I can trust you to be certain. I've never met anyone else like that." 

Hux scowled. Ren had more than touched on the psych profile that had followed Hux through his life. His inflexibility, and the fact that he carried grudges to a point beyond reason, were both considered major flaws in his programming. None of the First Order's techniques had ever managed to fix him, and he'd always been considered a failure. And yet, Ren believed they were admirable qualities. He crossed his arms and looked away.

He was also aware that Ren was quoting back to him one of the things that had initially drawn Hux to Ren. Hux had always admired Ren's fanatic devotion to the Force - his certainty in it, and the way Ren's Force seemed to love him back. For Ren, there was never any question that he could work miracles. And Hux had always wondered what it was like to believe in something like that, and be rewarded for it. Apparently, Ren mistook Hux's flawed confidence as the same.

"Well done. The First Order's mind reader can perform an accurate psych evaluation. Though your judgement is lacking."

"Is it?" Ren sounded even more amused now, and he turned his back to the sonic spray. "You're the one that brought me back to life."

"Don't be so certain that I won't gut you and leave you dead, Ren.”

“I know. But I know you'd bring me back eventually. I wouldn't take it personally."

"You took it extremely personally the first time."

Ren frowned, turning to look at him again. "That was different."

Hux _hmmmed_ , standing again. "You are also in an exceptionally good mood after being so recently dead. You normally wouldn't let me say a word against the Force without a tedious one-sided lecture. And you never miss a chance to remind me that I murdered you."

Ren bent over, turning off the sonic. Apparently he thought he was sufficiently clean. Hux was glad he'd followed him into the 'fresher. "Yeah, I guess I am in a good mood. But it's because I feel close to the Force right now." Ren closed his eyes for a moment, as if demonstrating the closeness to Hux. Then, he looked over and grinned. "I guess that's just the ritual. And that I was right about it."

Instead of stroking Ren's ego, Hux withdrew the hilt of Ren’s lightsaber from where he'd clipped it at the waist of his johpurs. Cardo had given it to him, under protest, before she’d left for Ryloth.

It was much the worse for wear. The quillions were blackened and well-used, and the fine components on the outside appeared broken and mud-caked. Hux hadn’t tried it, for fear it was damaged and would explode. Instead, he slapped it into Kylo’s palm. 

“Fine. Take this. My life insurance. Be more careful with it.” With that little bit of emotion over with, he switched off the sonic and bullied Kylo into sitting down, so they could waste Brendol’s water allowance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux is The Worst, and clearly hates aliens. There is a twi'lek victim in this chapter, but after their death (which is not described, and neither is the twi'lek), Hux speculates that Kylo would resent being revived with alien blood.
> 
> Kylo discusses past KoR relationships with Hux briefly, including BenRen, in no detail. The KoR include both women and men, and the conversation begins with Ren speculating about a threesome between Cardo, Hux, and himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Specific notes at the end of the chapter. If you've read this far, you probably know what you're in for. I did add a tag for past/implied KoR relationships, which wound up being discussed more than I anticipated.

The second time it happened, only six months had passed. Unfortunately for Hux, Ren's untimely demise occurred during a meeting with the team responsible for the planetary shielding tech on Starkiller. The initial shooting pain had come as his chief science officer gave one of her usual inflectionless status reports, and he’d recognized the cause almost immediately. His initial impulse had been to leave the chamber, but they were so close to having an airtight solution for the planet, and he’d hesitated long enough to make a spectacle of himself again.

The new incident put Hux at risk. It had been more public, and more opportunists had been present this time. Hector Gan, the captain overseeing the mining operations, had watched him break down in front of an entire committee. Gan was a good coordinator, but his rivals were well-known to vanish or ‘desert.’ His interested expression as he watched Hux being taken away had kept Hux conscious through the pain of Ren’s death.

In theory, Hux kept Ren as insurance against such accidents. But the pain and effort involved in Ren dying made everything about him, and it was difficult to imagine Ren reciprocating. But like it or not, resurrecting Ren was a duty forced on Hux anyway.

Ren, the co-commander of Starkiller, had not been present at the meeting. Ren had yet to appear at a single Starkiller check-in or appointment, but Hux regretted it as he suffered in med bay. If Ren had been at the meeting, he would not have been elsewhere, dying and inconveniencing Hux. 

The death process was at least more streamlined the second time. Hux managed to cancel most of the medical testing and limit the stay to a single shift with heavy painkillers. When he was able, he discharged himself and ordered a medical transport to his father’s secure suite. There, he was at least inaccessible to Gan, and he allowed himself to succumb to the pain. 

He woke ten hours later to the notification of Ben Hux’s death. He was officially on bereavement leave again, though he was pleased to note that Ren’s body would arrive on the _Absolution_ in a matter of hours.

Ren’s ghost appeared as he was miserably pulling on his uniform, attempting to make himself look presentable enough to meet Ren’s corpse at the hangar. He jumped when he turned and Ren was standing immediately behind him, glaring.

Hux glared right back as he fastened his tunic. "You look whole and healthy this time. What killed you?”

The notification hadn’t gone into specifics, only mentioning that Ben Hux had been KIA while heroically defending the First Order, or some patriotic trash that his father had written into a form. Ren looked much the same as he always did - his long tunic was intact, with no burn or scorch marks. His limbs all seemed to be present and functioning. His hair, clothing, and complexion actually looked well, compared to how he normally returned from his missions. He was angry, and attempting to speak, but was unable to make a sound. He didn't look pale or tired, and seemed healthy enough to pace and otherwise make a nuisance of himself.

But even the fantastic spectacle of Ren's ghost couldn't distract Hux from his headache. He sighed, closing his eyes against the throbbing pain that still made it difficult to think. "You don't appear to be injured. Maybe it was a rare good mood that killed you. It would be like you to die of that, just to spite me."

He didn’t expect an answer, and he turned away from Ren’s ghost before opening his eyes and mustering the strength to retrieve his boots and pull them on, allowing himself the luxury of sitting on the bed to do it. He could afford weakness now, but he would need to pretend to be well when he left the suite, and it would be difficult. And annoying, with Ren’s ghost following him to Ren's corpse.

Ren stood in front of him as he finished dressing, and Hux passed through him on his way to the ‘fresher. He met his own exhausted gaze in the mirror and gingerly ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, wishing he was well enough to endure a sonic. He felt soiled and ill, but curing himself required time, or bringing Ren back from the dead.

Ren was standing behind him, visible in the mirror, because of course he was. Hux finally met Ren’s angry stare and addressed him again. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

Ren shook his head, gesturing emphatically as he moved his mouth as if speaking, not making a sound, obviously trying to tell Hux off. Hux wondered why he was upset. Did he want Hux to care more about his death? Was he upset that Hux was ignoring him? Was he upset about dying? There was no point in humoring him - Ren’s ghost wouldn’t remember, and he couldn’t even talk back. Hux turned around and walked through him again.

“Only you would be petty enough to make me feel like death every time you get yourself killed.”

He opened the door to his father’s office and emphatically closed it behind him, knowing it would not stop Ren’s ghost.

He did the rest of his routine with his eyes closed, knowing it would be good enough. He felt like shit, though heavily programmed routine would hide most of it. He put on his command cap and greatcoat to cover any deficiencies and made his way to the hanger, ignoring Ren trailing behind.

He waited at the dock for the transport, feeling like a cadet on an errand as he stood idle, fighting the impulse to close his eyes and sit down somewhere. Ren’s ghost seemed particularly agitated, and kept pacing the empty bay, his fingers twitching at his side as if seeking his lightsaber. Hux resisted the urge to pat his own concealed hilt in response, but he did fidget idly with the monomolecular blade release in his cuff.

The transport arrived, and to his surprise, a human man with no uniform or helmet appeared on the ramp with the now-familiar stasis chamber. He looked to be in his early twenties, and was quite broad, but not tall - Hux estimated that he just over the height requirement for infantry troopers. He had shaggy blonde hair in a similar style to Ren’s, piercing blue eyes, a strong jaw, and a shit-eating grin that highlighted his perfect teeth.

“Who are you?” Hux blurted, his head still splitting and not quite up for a formal introduction over his husband’s corpse. The man wasn’t a trooper or an officer, but he wasn’t wearing any weapons or a helmet that would mark him as a Knight of Ren. Was he some sort of spy, or a defector from wherever Ren’s mission had been? Hux hadn’t thought to ask the location. Ren hadn’t messaged him in over a week, but also hadn’t seemed particularly upset by wherever he was going.

The stranger’s square-jawed grin widened as he ran a broad, ungloved hand through his messy hair. Hux followed the gesture, and was annoyed when the man winked at him.

“Kennat Ren. The Master told me to bring his body to you if he ever died again.”

Hux sighed heavily, closing his eyes and allowing himself a pained wince. 

“I don’t know you. Where is Cardo Ren?”

“She said she never wanted to see you again.” He shrugged carelessly, a gesture that would have been brutally trained out of him at an early age, had he been raised by the First Order. But he had a deep voice with an infuriatingly smooth Republic accent, even more polished than Ren’s, and he had the same sort of Republican holofilm good looks as Cardo. No one had ever brutally trained this man, despite his obvious physical fitness.

Hux’s gaze shifted to Ren’s ghost, who had calmed down once the transport had landed, and was now peering at the stasis chamber with interest. Hux was still in too much pain to process everything, though he did feel relief about not having to face Cardo Ren’s helmeted regard. Even without seeing her face, he felt like she had judged him and found him lacking. _Weak_. 

The idea of Ren having sex with her still made Hux reliably furious, despite Ren’s assurances that it had happened before they’d met. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with his own irrational anger, or his persistent mental image of Cardo shoving a rubber cock down Ren’s throat as he begged for more.

Hux closed his eyes briefly, dismissing the ire that rose whenever he thought of Cardo. Once he was calm, he looked back to Kennat Ren, who was still grinning at him in an unsettling way.

“Very well,” Hux finally allowed, desperate to be back to his quarters and the relief of privacy. He felt the edges of his vision darkening again. “Follow me.”

Unfortunately, it soon became clear that Kennat Ren was not the sort of useful, silent escort that Cardo had been. It took him less than three minutes before he began chatting with Hux as if they were at a diplomatic picnic, and not in the halls of a Star Destroyer.

“I was curious to meet you.”

“Why,” Hux snapped, still focusing on keeping himself conscious. He had at least ten more minutes of walking and riding transports with a stasis chamber and a Knight of Ren, both of which were earning him stares.

“I mean, I still can’t believe the Master’s married. None of the rest of us are, and Kuruk says it's never been done before. And, like, It's not a hard rule or anything, but the Master was a Jedi. It’s definitely not allowed for them.”

Hux grit his teeth and slammed a code cylinder into the wall at the nearest transport bay, hoping that he could summon a private car. But of course it was the shift change, and his command was overridden. He adjusted his hat to hide his face, and allowed himself to close his eyes.

“He says he’s not a Jedi.”

“Well, yeah, they’re all dead. Or all but one, I guess. But he used to be, and it shows. He’s just _like that_. You have to know, right? You're the one that's married to him.”

Hux turned to offer Kennat his iciest glare. Ren’s ghost was offering one over Kennat’s shoulder. “I don’t, no. He’s mentioned it, but I don’t care.”

“I do.”

Hux carefully held his face still, though Kennat was still smirking, his hands clasped behind his back as he leaned lazily against the stasis chamber. Ridiculously, he was wearing loose pants, heavy combat boots, and an artfully torn tunic that was held together with an empty bandolier and showed off his thick arms and broad, muscular waist. He had no weapons at all, which was foolish on a Star Destroyer full of officers. But he did have enormous hands, possibly larger than Ren’s, so perhaps he didn’t need one.

Kennat held his gaze, and Hux turned away when the crowded transport arrived. They inconvenienced everyone by cramming the enormous stasis chamber inside.

“How did he die?” Hux asked, eyeing Ren’s ghost again for evidence. Ren was standing in the middle of the stasis chamber, his legs disappearing into the metal lid, still looking too bored and healthy to be dead.

“His TIE was targeted. You know how it is.” Kennat was studying the other officers in the transport with interest. They all edged away from the mysterious Republican occupant, pretending severe indifference and pinning their eyes to the door. Staring in a transport was Not Done, but in this instance, Hux approved.

“I don’t pilot,” Hux replied, staring ahead and blending in with his fellow officers. “So I do not ‘know how it is.’ And I was under the impression he was exempt from such mundane accidents.”

“Hey!” Kennat sounded more interested. “I don’t pilot either. I hate driving anything, actually. Why bother? There’s always some flyboy that wants to show off. The Master loves it, right?”

Hux thought of the flight they’d taken on Starkiller during that first visit, how exhilarating it had been. Hux suddenly realized he’d not left the _Absolution_ since then, save for a few brief surface check-ins at Starkiller. He’d been on a few trips with Ren, at Ren’s insistence, before they’d been married. How odd that Ren hadn’t taken him anywhere in so long. Hux hadn’t noticed.

The realization that Kennat went on daily flights with Ren made him jealous again. Hux wasn’t prepared to deal with that while also suffering through a headache, so he resolved to ask Ren to take him somewhere as soon as he was alive again.

“He is a skilled pilot,” Hux answered shortly. “I was asking for clarification about how he was shot down. It wasn’t the first time, so why was it fatal?”

Kennat gave another infuriating, good-natured shrug. “Sometimes, it’s not your day. And those things aren’t shielded. It’s not like you guys value your pilots.”

Several of the older naval officers turned to stare at Kennat, and Hux tried to edge further away from him. Unfortunately, this brought him into contact with Colonel Temis, one of his father’s friends. They had been trying to ignore each other, but with his arm pressed into the monster’s side, Hux had to nod and offer a greeting that nearly made him choke.

“Sir.”

“Armitage.” Hux braced himself at Temis’s tone, and the use of his own first name. Temis loved giving lectures. “I see you’ve brought an outsider into a highly restricted area of a military vessel. Care for an introduction?”

Hux wanted to pull out his blaster and shoot him. He wanted to take Temis to his quarters and use him to revive Ren. A shame Temis was likely as Force-sensitive as a rock, otherwise Ren would have already killed him.

“ _Armitage_ ,” Kennat broke in, repeating Hux's name an amused tone. One of his big bare hands landed on Hux’s shoulder, squeezing it in appraisal. Hux hated it - Kennat was obviously feeling up the shoulder padding in his coat and tunic. Kennat leaned in, grinning up at him, then turned toward Temis. “I’m not here for him. I’m Kennat Ren, one of the Knights of Ren. I guess I’m an outsider…” Kennat trailed off, looking thoughtful for a moment. “But I fight battles for you all the same, right?”

At the mention of Kennat’s status as a Knight of Ren, someone jabbed the transport call panel with a code cylinder, and the transport slowed and opened, allowing a handful of officers to exit. Hux knew the Knights of Ren had a reputation, of sorts. But to see officers flee from a short, ragged man who could be lying about it was interesting.

Or perhaps they were leaving to avoid the upcoming _incident_.

Temis reddened at Kennat’s question, a reaction Hux had never seen before. Perhaps he'd gotten worse at concealing his anger, because Temis certainly didn't have any shame. When Hux was twelve, Temis had made him polish his styluses in his private office weekly, for reasons that were never made clear to Hux. Infuriatingly, Temis had an enormous collection, and each type needed to be treated differently, the entire chore taking four hours a week, which Temis supervised from his desk while doing other things. Sometimes, he would examine one at random, declare it a piss-poor job, and make Hux start over again.

Temis recovered admirably. “Are you a Knight of Ren? That’s quite a claim. Isn’t it more likely that you’re just some merc trash Brendol’s son brought aboard for entertainment?”

Kennat laughed, even as Hux pushed his back against the wall in the newfound space on the transport. He still had a splitting headache, and the implication that he would take some merc back to his father’s suite in the middle of a shift change, aboard a crowded transport, was almost beyond bearing.

“I _wish_ ,” Kennat blurted, turning to wink at Hux again. “Only if I’m lucky. But maybe you have trouble hearing? You do look a little older. I said I wasn’t here for Armitage.” Kennat affectionately pinched Hux’s cheek, and Hux wanted to sever his fingers. “I’m here for the Master of the Knights of Ren.” He slapped the lid of the stasis chamber for emphasis, and spoke in a low but audible undertone to Temis. Temis was very short, and even Kennat had a height advantage. Kennat's perfect teeth flashed as Temis's dark brows drew together. “He’s feeling a little sick, and Armitage needs to kiss him and make him better.”

Despite the whole scene being excruciating, Hux had to keep himself from laughing. Both at the idea that Ren was ‘a little sick,’ and that what he was about to do was ‘kissing him to make it better.’

At the mention of Ren’s title, another person jabbed the call panel with a code cylinder, and all the other officers found a reason to exit at the next transport stop. Hux stared after the exodus, impressed that Ren’s name alone could earn them a private transport. He turned to Ren’s ghost, suddenly suspicious.

“What do you do by yourself on this ship, Ren? I assume there’s a good reason that every occupant of the _Absolution_ but myself knows not to share a transport with you?”

Ren’s ghost lifted one shoulder and gestured to the empty car. Hux glanced around in resignation, noticing that everyone had indeed left, except for Temis and Kennat. Kennat had pinned Kennis into a corner with one meaty arm, keeping him in place.

Hux closed his eyes and allowed himself to slump against the wall, still fighting the headache. “ _Fine_. You’re right. You got rid of everyone. Excellent work.”

He heard Kennat whistle, and opened his eyes to see him staring over his shoulder in appreciation. “You can see him, even when he’s dead? That’s fancy work, Armitage.”

“Do you think that's by choice? I would really rather not.”

Kennat turned back to Temis, grinning. “It may look like Armitage has lost his mind, but he’s just talking to his powerful dead husband.”

Hux shut his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Kennat or Ren, who was gesticulating pointlessly again.

“Look,” Kennat continued, “you’re obviously looking out for everyone’s safety, with your crack about me being some merc Armitage is banging. And I’m flattered about that, really. But I’m looking out for everyone too! I mean, usually the Master is doing his own thing, but I do plenty of killing for the First Order, and I am _hurt_ that you’d say different. How much killing have you done for the Order, friend?”

Kennat dropped his jovial tone, and Hux opened his eyes to look at Temis again. He looked more properly terrified now, and was meeting Hux’s eye from across the transport. Hux didn’t know why. Did he want Hux to stop whatever Kennat was about to do? Kennat was in full view of the security cameras, and Hux wouldn’t be implicated.

Temis had killed people, of course, just not enemies of the First Order. He’d had a very poor track record with cadets. Even at twelve, Hux had known where the stylus chore had been heading. He’d also been well aware that it was intentionally degrading, though whether that was Temis or Brendol’s own flourish, Hux had never been sure. To get ahead of Temis, he’d begun to apply a surface toxin to the styluses as he cleaned, seeing that Temis did deskwork barehanded, and, Hux hoped, occasionally sucked the ends. Nearly a month of waiting only proved that Temis didn’t actually use any of the stars-damned styluses Hux cleaned, and the chore continued. But luck favored Hux when a young officer, much younger than Temis and frankly not competent enough to attain the posting they had somehow achieved, died of complications related to poisoning. So Hux had submitted an anonymous tip about spotting the young officer in the office with Temis. Hux had never heard the outcome, and had assumed credits changed hands to keep that quiet. But Hux had never been asked to clean styluses again, Temis had transitioned into some prestigious ex-Imperial busywork position, and they’d avoided each other after that.

“My record for the First Order and the Empire before it is spotless. My loyalty is unquestioned.”

“Oh, and I’m sure everyone is scared of your loyalty. But that’s not what I asked, is it? I asked how many people you’ve killed.”

“We all have our roles… er, Knight.”

Kennat was growing increasingly aggressive, and Temis’s voice was beginning to waver. The title almost sounded like an insult, and Hux caught Temis wincing as Kennat chuckled under his breath and put another arm against the wall, boxing Temis in.

He was forced to imagine how it would feel to have Kennat box him in with those arms and ask how many people he’d killed. Hux might even tell him the truth, but it wouldn’t count, not really. It wasn’t the same as what Kennat did. Kennat could kill people with his bare hands. Kennat would probably tear the padded coat and tunic off him when Hux didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. He would rip it roughly from Hux’s body, and Ren’s ghost would watch. Kennat would flip him around, pin his wrists to the wall with one big hand, and put the other against the back of his skull and squeeze. He would press a big hard cock against Hux’s ass and ask what Hux was willing to do for the Order-

His gaze shifted to Ren, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Hux cleared his throat, unapologetic, then turned to look at Kennat’s muscular back, where he still had Temis pinned to the wall.

“Do you have a role all picked out for me aboard this ship, officer?” When Temis didn't reply, Kennat cocked his head and continued. “Would anyone notice you were missing?”

Temis remained silent, so Hux answered for him, leaning forward, very interested now, headache almost forgotten. “No.”

Kennat turned to him, grinning, one hand reaching to grip the front of Temis’s tunic. “What do you think, Armitage? Someone without a role is a burden to the First Order, wouldn’t you say?”

Hux allowed himself a moment of annoyance. _Shit_. He couldn’t be seen on the holorecordings encouraging Kennat, or he would be complicit. Scowling, he reached over, punching one of the call commands on the transport. The transport slowed, then stopped, its doors springing open.

“You’ve ruined it, Kennat. Colonel, this is your stop.”

Hux loathed having to save Temis’s life, and judging by Temis’s expression, he liked it just as little. But he took the opportunity to slip away, twisting away from Kennat’s grip and ducking under his arm to dart nimbly through the door before it closed. The transport lurched forward, continuing to the command residence level. Hux closed his eyes again.

“Next time, don’t play with them so much. There’s too much bureaucracy.”

“I don’t have much use for rules, Armitage.” He felt Kennat settle next to him, heat radiating from the arm he pressed against Hux’s side. Hux frowned, wanting mention the rest of the empty transport car, but decided to try a different subject.

“You are quite gregarious. I thought being mysterious and threatening was more in line with whatever the Knights of Ren do.” 

“Yeah, under the new Master. He’s pretty serious about the Force, and all that religious bantha shit. I’ve never met someone who could turn a raid into some tedious self-reflection exercise. Comes with all the Jedi training I guess.” He felt Kennat shrug next to him. “I don’t think anyone is into it, but you know. He’s serious about it, and some of the Knights don’t know how to have fun anyway. But the old Ren? Nah, he was more like me.”

Hux opened his eyes, his pulse spiking at the mention of _old Ren_. The former Master, he assumed, the one who had ‘welcomed’… well, Kylo. Or Ben, he supposed.

“Like you? Then he enjoyed the sound of his own voice?”

Kennat laughed. “I just threatened to kill someone in front of you, and you’re saying that to my face?”

Hux turned to him, noticing that Kennat’s body language stayed much the same, and his arm was still pressed to Hux’s. Kennat shifted, and their hips came into contact. 

“Do you really believe I’ve never seen someone murdered? I don’t care about that. Answer the question, yes or no?”

Kennat flashed his perfect teeth again, crossing his arms across his chest and looking thoughtful. The effect was ruined when he flexed his muscles. “Yeah, he did like to talk. And we all liked to hear his voice. Including the new Master.” Kennat turned to leer at him.

“And I suppose he was large and fit, much like all of you?”

“Trudgen would love to hear that. But yeah, he was. The Master was kinda scrawny when he joined us, but Ren fixed him right up. Ren didn’t like scrawny. Not at all.”

Hux wanted to know what 'Ren' had looked like, before Ren had killed him. He suspected Kennat well knew it. After a moment, Kennat turned thoughtful and looked away, coincidentally looking at Ren’s ghost. Ren was standing nearby and looking unusually interested.

“The old Master was a big guy, if that’s what you’re asking. Human. Tall, blonde, dangerous. Real piece of work. Smooth as a Mon Cala dolphin, crazy as a Rancor. You did not want to get on his bad side, and whatever he said, he was serious. But he never said it in a threatening way, you know? He would just ask, and people would assume he was joking. He never was. Could handle a lightsaber like you wouldn’t believe. Liked to use it… you know. _Personally_. In more ways than one.” Kennat winked at him again, then regarded him curiously. “I heard the Master was into that. Do you guys do that?”

Hux recalled the numerous scars on Ren’s body, pink and shiny and healed over. There were so many on his back and thighs, or had been before most of the flesh of his back had been flayed and scarred the last time he died. Hux had assumed they were blaster burns. The idea that they _weren’t_ made him sick.

“I mean, not to get into your business or anything,” Kennat continued, obviously intending just that, “but I had to meet you. Everything I heard about the Master… he doesn’t drive in bed, you know, even though he seems like he would. So I wondered what kind of stallion he had stashed away. I’ve never met an official that wasn't some snobby fuck that flinched at the first punch, so like, how does a guy who can handle the Master fit in? Turns out you fit just fine, and I can tell by looking at you that the Master does the fucking.”

Hux wondered if he should be insulted on his own behalf, but didn’t much care who did what during sex. He felt no shame, especially about the implication that Ren didn’t enjoy having sex with him. He certainly did. His usual apathy for discussing his personal habits was obliterated, however, by the wave of jealousy he felt about _why_ this Knight of Ren was asking him - or rather, telling him - about this.

“You’re right, it’s none of your business,” Hux replied icily. Ren liked to beg just as much as he liked to hold Hux down and fuck him. Hux enjoyed watching Ren kneeling on the floor and begging, but he also enjoyed struggling against Ren's holds and insulting him until Ren fucked him harder. That was the usual when Ren was angry or distracted, which was frequently now, but Hux had done his share of the fucking when Ren was in a more affectionate mood.

Was Kennat Ren implying that he wanted to fuck Ren? Even after all the flirting he’d done with Hux? The only way he would get to Ren was if he crushed Hux's skull with one of his big hands once Ren was alive again. And even then, Ren would revive him, and Hux would hunt Kennat Ren down and murder him.

He glared at Ren’s ghost, who put his hands up, smirking. Hux didn’t know what that meant. He turned back to Kennat, who was grinning, perfectly aware that he’d struck a nerve.

“Nah, you don’t understand. It is my business. ‘Cause the Master always says no when I ask. But when he gave me this job, he said you might be up for a threesome, if I was your type. But it had to be your call. And I’ve been dying to know what the Master is like. I’ve only heard stories.”

Hux’s eyes widened. “He told you to proposition me for sex?”

“Don’t act like. He made it sound like you’d be into it. That I was your type.”

The transport stopped, and the doors opened. Hux’s headache was worse now, and he all but bolted from the car. Annoyingly, Kennat caught up to him effortlessly a few moments later, the stasis chamber gliding smoothly alongside him.

“I can tell I’m your type. I mean, by the way you look at me. I can _feel_ you’re interested, ‘cause that’s what I do. But I can’t figure out why you’re saying no.”

“I have no interest in a half-size dimwit, and your seduction game is piss poor. Try harder.”

The insult only made Kennat’s smirk widen, which was enough like Ren to make Hux look away. “I don’t think I do need to try harder. I can tell you want to say yes. I don’t know why you won’t.”

“You are propositioning me over my husband’s corpse. He is your Master.”

“Yeah, but you don’t care about that, or you would have stopped me earlier. Besides, he’s the one that told me to do it. So he’s up for it.”

Hux looked over at Ren’s ghost, who gestured between himself, Hux, and Kennat. Hux pointedly did not look at Kennat.

Kennat had already said that Ren wouldn’t have sex with him. So Hux didn’t have to worry about that, or think about it, even though he couldn’t stop imagining Kennat choking Ren with his cock while sitting on his face. But. Would their relationship change, if Hux invited that interaction himself? If Hux was weak enough to tell Ren he wanted to watch, would Ren welcome Kennat in his bed after, thinking he had Hux’s approval? Would they do that while they were on missions together, while there was nothing Hux could do about it?

Ren already commed less, and sometimes forgot to bring Hux back the toys they both loved so much. Was it Cardo? Kennat? Who was the other one that Ren had mentioned-

Kennat laughed again. “Ha! I don’t know what’s going through your mind, Armitage, but I like it. Come on. Just say yes. I’ll stick around after whatever little party you do with him, yeah? I mean, he’s been dead, and on a mission before that, so if you have to think about it this hard, it’s obvious you’re waiting for it.”

Hux remained silent as they continued to wind their way through the residence area. When they reached his father’s (mercifully empty) suite and Hux stopped to open the door, Kennat smacked his ass with one big hand. Hux turned to him in surprise, and Kennat looked remorseless.

“Whatever. I don’t know why you’re holding back. But think about it, right?”

Hux glanced up and down the hallway, making sure it was deserted, before fixing Kennat with the best imperious glare he could manage with a splitting headache. “Certainly. I’ll consider it while you’re out fetching the Force-sensitive being that your Master requires. Do you know where to find one, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

Kennat grinned wider. “No sweat, Armie. I got a guy in the transport.” He turned, winking, leaving Hux standing speechless with both Ren’s corpse and Ren’s ghost. “You just get that sweet ass ready for me when I come back.” He glanced at the stasis chamber, then back to Hux, raising his brows suggestively. “Make sure everyone’s ready, all right?”

Hux was revolted, and glared at Ren’s ghost, who looked completely unapologetic, and would remember nothing of the excruciating conversation.

* * *

This time, when Ren was shocked awake, Hux made sure he had a reprimand ready, no matter how the ritual affected him.

“I have better things to do than this positively gristly ritual. And you need to expel Kennat Ren from your little group.”

They were both silent for several moments as they recovered from the initial shock of Ren's resurrection. Hux felt relief as his headache receded, leaving nothing in its wake. He waited impatiently for Ren to gain his wits again, and almost repeated himself before Ren finally responded in a low and broken tone, his gaze shifting to Hux.

“I died. In my TIE.”

Hux wasn't sure if it was a response, or a statement of fact. It didn't matter, so he continued his tirade. “You died while I was attempting to finalize the extremely powerful, experimental shields on Starkiller. You remember Starkiller? The weapons project you co-command?”

Ren was silent again, blinking up at the ceiling and gasping to catch his breath. Eventually, he turned to Hux and scowled, his voice still rough. “Starkiller?” he stuttered. “You don’t even send me the briefs anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to be interrupted and humiliated during command meetings. And when you die, I’m placed on a bereavement leave, and it takes even longer to catch up.”

Ren closed his eyes. “Do you go on leave because you're upset?”

Hux was kneeling on the floor between Ren and the body of the Force-sensitive man Kennat had brought. He shifted to sit more comfortably, wiping his monomolecular blade on the tatters of Ren’s trousers. When Hux had removed Ren's corpse from the stasis chamber, it had been relatively intact for having been through a TIE explosion. The back of his head had been a mess, and he'd suffered severe burns, though they didn't appear fatal and should have been worse. Hux thought it likely that the engines had exploded behind Ren's pseat, and that he'd not been wearing a flight helmet at the time. The head would would have knocked him out, it if hadn't killed him immediately. Ren's clothing and body had probably only burned for the second it took for the pilot's compartment to breach to space. Handy, for whoever had retrieved his body.

And of course Ren didn’t know about the bereavement period. Why would he? “All personnel are taken off duty for a mandatory two weeks when a close family member dies. The only way to end it early is to prove you are still alive.”

Ren closed his eyes again, and his reply came out in a rasp. “Maybe it’s mandatory because you should feel sad when I die.”

“Is that some sort of comment on my personality?”

“No. When I call you an unsympathetic, insensitive psychopath, you’ll know.”

“Ren…” Hux wondered how long it would take for Ren to get over his sulk. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but his hands were bloody. “You aren’t actually dead. I don’t feel grief because you are always next to me, every moment of every day, as an impossible-to-ignore ghost. And you watch me revive you every time, through the entirety of the time-consuming process.”

“I told you, I’m not a ghost. That’s the essence of my being in the Force,” Ren corrected crossly. When Hux opened his mouth to shout at him, Ren continued over him. “And that sounds like fun for both of us. It’s too bad you don’t like it, because I love dying. It’s great every time. Especially when you do it.”

“When will you let that go?” Ren was in a particularly bad mood, which probably meant his death had been traumatic. The burns from the TIE explosion had mostly vanished, though his skin had lost texture. The burned areas were healthy-looking but shiny, as if the hint of a scar was visible. It was much less noticeable than the crater over his heart where Hux had shot him, or the horrible mark on his back from the bombardment cannon.

Hux continued, his own temper rising to match Ren’s. “I’m asking you to be more careful! Certainly you can take that as a sign that I care! I don’t want to bring you back from the dead, I don’t want you to die at all! I want you to treat your life like we won’t be able to do this once a week!”

For a moment, Ren looked almost comically shocked. But it quickly passed, his eyes narrowing as he continued to argue, the blood on his mouth and eyes spoiling his angry expression. “It’s not once a week! And besides, how was I supposed to avoid my TIE being shot down? Those things are unresponsive, unshielded pieces of shit. They’re even shaped like training targets.”

“That’s not what a training target looks like.”

“It does in the Republic,” Ren grumbled. Hux had to concede the point. 

When Ren made no other attempts to speak or move, Hux stood, not wanting to continue the ridiculous argument with a corpse cooling on the floor. “Fine. Once I finish the planetary shielding for Starkiller, we’ll work on applying the tech to TIEs and other fleet vehicles. You can fly the prototype, I’ll see to it personally. Then you won’t be able to complain about your mobile death trap.”

Ren opened his eyes and turned his head to glare from the floor, still looking pale and bloody. “I’ll believe it when I see it. It would almost be like you cared about me.”

"I don't. I'm just doing my duty." Speaking to Ren in his current mood was pointless, and Hux wasn't in the mood to indulge Ren in their usual games. He stepped over him and opened the door to the main suite area, pausing for a moment to look back. “Once you’re fully recovered, dispose of that body. I hope he wasn’t needed on your mission.”

Ren scowled, finally sitting up. “I just died, and you’re making me…”

As the door closed behind Hux, he heard a sharp intake of breath. Then, a muffled shout.

“Hux! This is Ten Tezen! He’s the fucking leader of the insurgency! Our informant! We-”

Hux stopped paying attention as he walked to the ‘fresher to clean himself off.

* * *

The third time it happened, Ren’s whole transport blew up, sabotaged by an official delegation. An entire unit of Stormtroopers and several of their best diplomatic officers were wiped out, along with one of the Knights of Ren. Hux was, mercifully, sleeping when it happened. The trauma of the death woke him, and since only four months had passed after the last incident, Hux was well aware of what was happening to him. He managed to throw on his uniform and admit himself to medical before the pain became too excruciating. Repetition seemed to be making the agonizing process easier, but he wondered if the ritual was somehow also growing marginally less painful each time.

When he later awoke in the secure medical suite with an intense headache, it still took him a moment to orient himself. He fumbled for his comm at the bedside, which was making the persistent chime that let him know Ren had died. He silenced it, squinting at the bright screen to take in the details of the accident, then set it aside and laid back down.

“The Leborian,” Hux said aloud. “You didn’t tell me about this mission. You didn’t comm me at all. Did you see it coming, with your Force? Did you try to stop it?”

He opened his eyes and glanced blearily around the room, looking for Ren’s ghost. He wasn’t there. It was the brief period where Ren was truly dead, just like everyone else on that transport.

“You should tell me if it’s dangerous, so I know what to expect,” Hux continued to the empty air. It wasn't as if Ren's ghost was any more responsive. Not really. “You used to complain about your missions all the time. Now I barely know when you’re coming or going.”

There was morose silence as Hux contemplated his dead, foolish husband, and what he was about to do to bring him back.

“The last time I brought you back, we barely talked, and you left. I forgot to tell you about Kennat Ren. Though, he made it sound as if you were encouraging his irritating advances. If he comes along with your body again, I'll kill you again myself.”

He'd been so forward, just like Ren had. Remembering what Kennat Ren had said forced him to imagine him pinning Hux face-first to a wall and fucking him from behind. It made Hux shift in his bed, and he rolled over and closed his eyes to dismiss the thought. It was something that Ren did, sometimes, if he was leaving for a mission and Hux didn’t seem appropriately saddened by his absence. They both loved it, and it had been so long since he’d enjoyed it.

The idea that Ren saw more of his Knights than he saw Hux made his thoughts shift to Ren pinning Kennat to a wall, fucking him from behind, Ren’s harsh and judgmental whispers in Kennat’s ear instead of his. Kennat was shorter, and Ren would be able to haul him up by his wrists, squeezing them and causing the pain at his shoulders that would make the sex absolutely exquisite-

Hux grunted aloud, rage suddenly surging up through his chest. Ren liked sex with Hux, not his Knights. He liked it when Hux fought back, insulting Ren until his mouth was stopped with the Force or a gag, and his limbs were immobilized. That was truly the best sex of Hux’s life, and he had grown to love it even more when Ren coddled him afterward, caring for his bruises, making sure that Hux was comfortable, fetching him water, saying all his usual nonsense aloud.

He thought of Ren being pinned beneath Cardo, his cries, his face as Cardo had her way with him. He thought of Ren coddling Cardo after sex. Fetching her water, making sure she was comfortable, crawling up behind her and holding her.

“Why is this the only way I see you anymore?” he said aloud, giving vent to his uncharacteristic anger. He didn’t know why he was letting himself dwell on any of this. “You’re gone much longer on missions now. I suppose your religious zealots and artifacts are harder to find? You never speak of it, but I suppose I discouraged that. You used to go on, and I couldn't be bothered to care.”

He stopped, then glanced around the room, looking for Ren’s ghost. Speaking aloud was easier than imagining a Knights of Ren gangbang, and not even Ren’s ghost was witnessing it. So he continued.

“You seem more self-directed now. That must be nice, choosing what to do with your life. I can’t understand why the Supreme Leader permits it. How does your religious nonsense have anything to do with the goals of the First Order? He must allow it because you take Order personnel with you, and they do the work to find out if the areas are compatible with our network of systems. Congratulations on that, by the way. High Command loves your initiative with our expansion campaign, and I doubt they have any idea that you don’t give a shit about the First Order.” He closed his eyes. “But I suppose you do help them. After all, your deaths have been related to the suppression campaigns. Except when I killed you. I’m still not sorry about that. You really are completely insane.”

He was rambling, and he rolled over again, trying to convince himself to sleep until the headache was gone. But there was still something that bothered Hux. Something about Ren had been stirring in the back of his mind for some time, though Hux had never stopped to examine it. 

“You’re around even less, now that you do as you like. And you’re distracted when you are here. You’re mostly the same though… affectionate. Clingy. I don’t care for it, and you know that. But you’re mine, and I tolerate it.” Hux sighed, opening his eyes, annoyed that he couldn't let this go. “You know I don’t sleep when you aren’t here. Annoying, really. But you sleep poorly now, too. And I wonder if you really find what you’re looking for, when you get those little Force tidbits of yours? You say all of that is meant to expand your mastery, but how much farther can that go, Ren? You are very strong. You’re immortal. But you don't seem to realize that. I believe you'll find something that stops you before you find what you're looking for.”

There. That’s what bothered him. Ren, confident and free in a way that Hux was not, didn’t know what he wanted. Hux didn't believe it existed. It certainly didn't seem to involve settling into a role within the First Order.

But they both had problems. Hux was very nearly finished with Ren’s TIE prototype, and was too busy for this nonsense, really.

His monologuing was interrupted by a tech entering the room. It was Lieutenant Demay, the same med tech that always treated him. Hux had done a brief check on her after they'd first met, to be certain she wasn't associated with Brendol or his friends. She was an ex-Imperial, but only barely - she'd been near the end of the old Imp cadet medical track when the Empire fell. She was forty-two, rarely left the medical unit, and wore eyeglasses as an affectation. She had apparently been assigned to research Hux's mysterious condition. He wondered if she'd heard him speaking to himself through the door.

He watched carefully as she crossed the room and stopped at his bedside. Her posture and movements were regulation-perfect, her expression businesslike. If she had an opinion, she didn't show it. “Well. We’ve scanned you again. There is still nothing physical wrong with you, Armitage.”

He closed his eyes briefly against the now-rare use of his first name. “And yet. I am still here, and still in immense pain, _Lieutenant_ ,” he replied, emphasizing her title as he opened his eyes again. 

She frowned, taking his meaning. Informal address was part of the more relaxed atmosphere in medical, meant to make the stresses of treatment more bearable. But Hux wasn't in the mood to play along. “Ah. You were just promoted, weren’t you.” She glanced briefly down at a datapad in her hand. “Colonel. Congratulations. There aren’t many colonels aboard the _Absolution_. Sir.”

“Yes, I am aware.” Colonels tended to be promoted and stationed as department heads. The shielding tech on Starkiller had been such an enormous technological boon for the First Order that High Command had been forced to legitimize the project and give Hux all the resources due to him, along with a promotion. He was the youngest colonel in the First Order. Ren had not received a promotion, nor had he been mentioned at all during the review of the Starkiller project.

“Unfortunately, your new rank does not give me any further insight into your condition.”

“I don't need insight. I need relief. Something to dull the pain. I’ll be fine in a day.”

“You never are.” Demay noted, crossing her arms. “Your pain persisted after your discharge last time. Would you like to stay under observation? Perhaps I can run additional tests when you feel well again.”

“No. Just the painkillers. I’ll leave when I’m ready.” He closed his eyes, hoping to end the conversation. 

She was silent for a long time, but she didn’t leave, and eventually huffed in exasperation and tried again. “You are still on active duty, Colonel. Or will be, when you’re discharged. If I recall, you were on bereavement when this happened before. Because your husband died. Erroneously. Twice.”

Hux opened his eyes again, still in immense pain and not prepared for this conversation. “What do you want me to say, Lieutenant?”

She was appraising him through her glasses, remorseless. “There have only been two instances of falsely registered deaths in the history of the First Order. I've checked. Both have happened relatively recently, and both instances involved your husband. I do not have access to Kylo Ren's medical information, but rumors about him are persistent. I would have heard if he'd been treated for life-threatening injuries in any First Order facility."

Ren's reputation was becoming increasingly inconvenient, especially when it was true. “He was fine. He’s just a sound sleeper.”

She stared at him. He stared back. Eventually, she broke.

“I want to make you well. That would be easier if you shared more information with me. It’s possible that the root of your episodes is psychological. If you think that is worth investigating, we can proceed with testing.”

Hux wanted to laugh. “Are you suggesting I go through a psych evaluation?” He closed his eyes, his headache returning. “I’ve had several. Perhaps that’s above your pay grade. Rest assured, the First Order is well aware of my shortcomings, and cares little for my psychological well-being.”

“Then does your husband?”

Hux grunted in irritation. “What he thinks is irrelevant. He’s not here, he’s-” He opened his eyes and turned to look at her, but instead saw that Ren’s ghost had finally appeared behind her. It was all Hux could do to stop himself from reacting.

Ren's leg was gone, which was his most noticeable injury, but not by much. Luckily for ghost Ren, his missing leg didn't seem to affect his balance. More horrifying than that, however, was Ren's obvious head trauma. The flesh on one side of his face was missing, along with one of his eyes. The entire right side of his head was a bloody mess. With his cheek missing, Hux could see that Ren had at least kept all his teeth, but it made the scowl on the intact side of his face significantly more eerie. His ear was missing too, the long hair that normally concealed his big ears matted into the gore on that side of his head, emphasizing its absence.

Ren was ghastly. Hux stared long enough that Demay eventually turned to look behind her, directly at Ren.

“He’s on a mission,” Hux snapped, wary that Ren’s extremely dead ghost was staring at her. She turned back to Hux, expression blank, not reacting to his sudden outburst. “And I have a headache. A debilitating one. You and I both know that this will eventually go away. I need painkillers now, and a week’s worth to take with me. As you say, I will be on duty again once I am well enough to leave here. And that is all, Lieutenant.”

“I’m trying to help you, Colonel,” She responded while making a note on her datapad. “I would rather you not have this issue in the future. It seems to be happening more frequently.”

“Yes, I agree. But the painkillers will be sufficient. And a second course, in case it happens again. Perhaps with a tranquilizer, too. Then I can skip this very pleasant visit next time.”

“Hm. Is that an order, Colonel?”

“Does it need to be?”

“No, sir. I’ll have that ready when you’re prepared to leave.” She turned and walked through Ren’s awful-looking ghost to get to the door. It opened, and she lingered for a moment, looking back. “But I'd advise you to continue your visits to the medical unit, if it happens again. At the very least, it will take you off active duty and give you time to recover.”

Hux closed his eyes, ignoring her. Finally, he heard the door slide closed, signifying that he was alone with Ren.

Hux tried to think of something to say to Ren's terribly injured apparition, but before he could decide, he fell back asleep.

* * *

  
Hux’s headache eased enough to discharge himself a day later, and with the help of Demay’s painkillers and his no-longer-mandatory bereavement time, he was able to return to active duty. He was very nearly on Starkiller's command full-time now, with some still-infuriating busywork from his father to fill out his schedule. As annoying as the tasks were, he found it increasingly difficult to give the Stormtrooper program up entirely. Starkiller was still highly classified, and he knew his public reputation would diminish if he gave up his high-profile duties. He also hated the idea of one of Brendol's favorites in the position he'd worked so hard to create for himself. It was unbearable to think of waking up to Lynn Yennik every morning for the daily Loyalty Pledge broadcast. 

The transport with Ren’s body appeared three days later. Kennat Ren commed Hux when he arrived, which Hux ignored and promptly forgot about. At the end of his shift, he found that Kennat had left him a message cheerfully informing him that he was not able to obtain a Force-sensitive individual at the site of Ren's death, and was departing immediately to go off by himself to hunt. Ren's corpse had been left in the cargo transport area of the delta hangar in the meantime.

The reality of Ren’s body being stored like excess supplies didn’t hit him until he went to retrieve it. He stared at the stasis chamber in disbelief, and was nearly sideswiped by a large cargo droid as he stood still in the bustling main aisle of the bay.

“These are human remains,” he said aloud, to no one in particular. Ren’s dismembered ghost was livid, gesturing between the stasis chamber and Hux. Hux had been trying as hard as he could not to look at Ren's ghost this time, but could still tell he was furious. He was thankful that Ren would have no memory or knowledge of this incident, because he would otherwise never hear the end of it.

“We don’t transport human remains, Colonel,” a perky lieutenant that appeared from nowhere informed him, smiling jovially as he split his attention between Hux and a massive datapad he was cradling in one arm. “They get incinerated on-site.”

“Lovely.” He gestured to the capsule. “What is this?”

The lieutenant lost some of his good cheer. “I don’t know. Are you expecting something?”

“A corpse.”

The lieutenant laughed as if they were friends, then scanned the stasis chamber with his enormous datapad. “I could find out for you, sir.” He pulled up the record, squinting at it, then flipped it around to show Hux. “Whatever it is, it’s above my paygrade, Colonel. Highly classified, from the Labora system.”

Hux stared at Ren’s ghost, who was still somehow pacing, even with one leg. He considered opening the stasis chamber to shock the lieutenant, then decided he didn’t need that kind of reputation.

“Very well." He waved dismissively at the stasis chamber as he turned around. “Have it sent to the Hux suite, Lieutenant. I’ll care for it there. I’ve got more work in the meantime.”

He didn’t look at the lieutenant, who may not have been a cargo clerk, nor did he look at Ren’s ghost before he left the chamber. He decided it was a good day to restock his rations.

Hux didn’t open the stasis chamber until two days later, and almost immediately closed it again. He’d thought he’d dealt with the difficult part - when Kennat Ren had returned with his prisoner, Hux had him dismissed from the hangar without meeting him, and had ordered two Stormtroopers to take the prisoner into custody and bring him to his quarters. Hux hadn’t needed to speak to Kennat Ren, or find the prisoner, or even interrupt his routine.

But not even Ren’s ghost had prepared him for the horror of Ren’s body. Hux wondered how they’d found all of it in the wreckage of an entire transport, with so many other people. Maybe it was the Force, bonding Ren’s body parts together, or some nonsense.

Hux had done and seen terrible things in his life, but pulling Ren out of the stasis chamber this time was one of the worst. He felt a kind of sick dread as he handled the remains. He kept looking to Ren’s ghost, not saying aloud that he didn’t believe Ren’s magic would work this time. Ren didn’t seem to have enough of a chest, hands, or face to perform the ritual.

“Still,” Hux muttered, while opening up the prisoner. “You’re mine, and you’ve come back to me in pieces again. I'll do my duty.”

He didn’t look at Ren’s ghost as he used the blood, and carefully avoided it even as he activated his lightsaber into Ren’s chest.

It worked. Of course it worked, because Ren had said it would. Ren’s eyes shot open. Both of them, Hux realized dully as Ren’s body jolted and he gripped Hux’s bloody hands with his whole ones again. Hux wished he had the capacity to appreciate the miracle. He knew it was fantastic. Impossible. But he could only watch calmly as Ren’s chest filled with air, as Ren’s hands grew warm again, as Ren’s tongue licked at his cracked, bloody lips. His only reaction to all of it was disgust at the idea of Ren licking the blood off his mouth, and the lessening of the tenseness and horror that he’d felt when he’d seen the remains.

As Ren laid on the floor, mostly naked this time, Hux inspected the various scars on his body. The blaster crater from Hux, the bright, smooth places where he’d been burned the last time he died. Hux pushed back Ren’s regrown hair and found a scar around his right ear, which had been detached. There were also gruesome, thick scars around his right ankle and thigh where other bits had blown off. They were red, but still less vivid than they should have been, had Ren’s injuries been something he could have recovered from without a miracle.

If Ren turned over, he’d have the terrible scar from the canon on his back, along with what he now knew were lightsaber burns from the old Master of Ren. Not even jealousy pricked Hux now, through the numbness he felt in place of anything else.

The rest of the damage was gone. All of it. Hux sat back, studying Ren, whose eyes were still closed. Neither of them spoke. After a moment, Ren reached blindly to take Hux’s hand. Hux allowed it, and began stroking the scars around Ren’s wrist, where he burned himself with his lightsaber regularly. With his free hand, he tucked the mess of Ren’s hair behind his ears, both of them still attached to his head.

There was something to say, surely. It had been bad this time. Even Hux knew that. But he was not that person, and he felt the lack now. He thought about his resolve from the last time that Ren died, that he would demand that Ren take him somewhere on a trip. Even that seemed insignificant compared to what had just happened.

After several silent minutes of Ren laboriously recovering his breath, Hux silently helped him to the ‘fresher, where he would clean himself off and it would once again be as if nothing had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Ren dies twice. The first fatality is pretty mild - his TIE is shot down. Hux mentions but doesn't describe a "messy" wound on the back of his head, and "severe", non-specific burns on the rest of his body that go away, with light scarring.
> 
> \- The second death is fairly gruesome, though again, Ren is fine by the end of the chapter (for now!). He gets blown up, so he's missing an ear, a leg, and an ankle. Hux mentions heavy scarring once he's revived, but again, this is mostly not described. Hux is a little traumatized, and thinks there isn't enough of Ren to bring back to life. He briefly describes a facial wound on ghost Ren that includes the missing ear, an eye, and the side of his face - you can see his teeth, but they're all there!
> 
> \- Hux kills two faceless people to bring Ren back to life, their blood is mentioned briefly. There is also a flashback where Hux attempts to murder one of his father's friends, but accidentally kills another officer instead, then frames his attempted victim. He was a precocious teen.
> 
> \- A new Knight of Ren will begin hitting on Hux. You can skip most of that if implied Hux/KoR or past BenRen or Ren/KoR isn't your thing - it's a long scene, and when the Knight starts getting into it, just skip to the next line break. Unfortunately, Hux's jealousy manifests as angry, horny fantasies along those lines, and those are harder to skip, but most are only a paragraph or two.
> 
> \- We also find out that the past BenRen involved kinky lightsaber play, and Hux realizes some of Ren's scars are from that. Not really described past that.


End file.
